


The Slow, Inevitable Descent.

by yetanothereireannach



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arkadia, Clarke is so over this shit, Clexa, Clexa is end game, Cute Lexa, Dancing, Drama, F/F, FUCK YOU JASON, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Forest Sex, Forgiveness, I REGRET NOTHING, Kinda canon, Lexa Lives, Lexa cant deal with feelings, POV Clarke, POV Lexa, Polis, Reconciliation, Romance, Smut gets away from me, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, be prepared, intense smut, lextra, reunited, so many feels, the smut is out of control, very long sex scene, ye are in for a surprise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 58,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yetanothereireannach/pseuds/yetanothereireannach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1. Clarke is stuck in Polis as Ambassador to Skaikru. She cant stand the sight of Lexa, or anything to do with her, but as time goes on she finds herself captured by the girl, not the leader. A friendship begins, and feelings are rekindled.<br/>Its angsty fluff my friends... there is a dance scene, a scene with the Nightbloods, lots of feels so give it a try!</p><p>Part 2. is drama and feels, Lexa has called an end to their friendship and Clarke wants out of Polis. Lexa realises her mistake culminating in a long and extensive *ahem* reconciliation. M rating/NSFW</p><p>Part 3. Reunion. Fluff. Smut. Progress. M Rating</p><p>E rating/NSFW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mad_Scientist_88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Scientist_88/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1. It was a rough beginning: How I ended up here in Polis as Lexa’s ambassador to Skaikru is a long story. If you’d have asked me a year ago if I would be sitting at a table eating dinner with the woman who turned her back on me, our treaty, and my people, I would have laughed in your face, before breaking it. I swore that I’d never again let her in, that I’d never again let myself care for her, that I’d never leave myself open to her betrayal… I swore I would kill her but here I am... in Polis ten months later and the Commander has somehow become my best friend. Ten months on I'm battling the inevitable attraction to the beautiful leader and fighting the growing affection I have for her, along with the knowledge my people would never understand it. Nobody can, because the bottom line is it’s fucked up, but we live in a fucked up world, and it is what it is.  
> Its angsty fluff my friends... there is a dance scene, a scene with the Nightbloods, lots of feels so give it a try!
> 
> Part 2. is drama and feels, Lexa has called an end to their friendship and Clarke wants out of Polis. Lexa realises her mistake culminating in a long and extensive *ahem* reconciliation. M rating/NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, so this is my first Clexa fic, it’s a one shot but I could develop on it eventually into an M rated follow up. Full disclosure; know I haven’t got Clarkes voice down yet, but I tried: D Im working on it… its unbetad so I was wondering if someone would like to Beta the second part for me if this one goes down well?  
> On another note… I refuse to watch the show anymore since 307, but on Tumblr has filled me in. Surprise, surprise… The 100 has fucked up again. A strong woman leader and lesbian is killed by a stray bullet. Children are slaughtered, Lincoln (probably arguably the best man out of all of them and a POC) is shot, and an interracial couple (super sweet couple!) is broken and wow, all of this in three weeks. Seriously. It’s like he is trying to tank as hard and fast as he can and that’s if you don’t even take into account the build-up, the queer baiting, the infiltration of safe spaces… the Lying, and being a general remorseless dick after. Dude has lost his mind. I am too salty for words. I’m still struck, disgusted and heartbroken about Lexa’s death. Its bullshit, but at least some good has come out of it with the Trevor Project and all the awareness raised about the issue. http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
> 
> Anyways. Here is some nice fluffy shit to changer les idées, but knowing me the fluff has gotta be just a little angsty. 
> 
> Note: I dance and love it, so this fic was bound to happen. 
> 
> I'd like to send a shout out to my buddy Mad, thinking about you homeslice.
> 
> Aussi je suis sur Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yetanothereireannach

Clarke

 

The light comes throw the window, waking me from my less than stellar sleep. I’m groggy and for a second I seize up, coming to terms with where I am. I’m here lying on a mass of thick, soft furs and in a bed more comfortable than I’ve ever had before. I had a bed, back in space… but things were basic on the Ark and even 10 months into my time in Polis, such luxuries don’t go unappreciated.

How I ended up here in Polis as Lexa’s Skaikru ambassador is a long story. If you’d have asked me a year ago if I would be sitting at a table eating dinner with the woman who turned her back on me, our treaty, and my people, I would have laughed in your face, before breaking it. But hey, times change… situations evolve… surviving is adapting and if I have learned anything from the three months I spend in the wilderness lying low, is that if you fail to adapt, death is a certainty.

When I was dragged to the Capital by Roan and thrown to my knees blindfolded, I was sure I was at the mercy of Azgeda, and that crazy bitch Nia. When he caught me, I didn’t know who he was, where I was but the marks on his face was enough to tell me he was Ice Nation, and when I actually got captured I wasn’t surprised… there was after all a bounty on my head. SO I guess it’s obvious that the blindfold came off the last person I expected to see, the last person I wanted to see... was her.  I remember the bag being pulled off my head, the blinding light that clears as I squint, the figure that stands in that once graceful movement and it was _that_ , that poise, before even seeing her, that brought the dread crashing down around me, not the fear of imminent death. The panic and anger I felt at being captive ebbs away and all I can think of, all I can focus on is the image of her neck between my hands, as she looks down on me from above. When my vision finally clears and I actually see Lexa for the first time since mount weather, I see those jade pools, those treacherous lips, and my heart beats so fast I feel like I am dying.  When she speaks, I can’t hear her, all I hear is the roaring in my ears, the screaming in my mind until she says something that brings me back, that pushes me over the edge.

All it takes is three words..., “I need you” to reduce me to a screaming, shrieking mess, to lunge at her and spit in the bitches face, and swearing to kill her. Not that I get near enough bound and tied, but I would have killed her or died trying with my bear hands, if I had got close enough…but I don’t. Lexa wipes the spit away and I screech as I’m dragged backwards by the guards, pulled out of the hall but I’m not brought to the cages. They bring me upstairs and throw me on the floor in a chamber grander than anything I’ve ever seen. They shut the door behind them and I hear it lock, and then… I scream.

Then a week went by and as usual on earth, things can’t seem to stop themselves from descending into shit. Ice nation starts causing trouble, Nia wants me… not me; Clarke Griffin, buts she wants Wanheda… all the leaders do, and I know why. With the blood of an entire nation my hands, the extinction of a people to call my own they call me The Commander of Death. They believe killing me will give them the strength to overthrow The Commander, to seize her place. Heda should kill me herself, she should take this “power” and put her people’s doubts to rest but she doesn’t. Instead Heda keeps me alive, she wants to work _with_ me.

When Heda comes to me, proposing that Skaikru become the thirteenth clan, asking me to bow to her, I realise despite everything and how much I hate the bitch, I still can read the impassive Heda like a book. The Commander stands proud as she always does, her face gives nothing away, but in those eyes something flashes in her eyes and I recognise it… the desperate hope that I take the deal. Lexa desperately hopes I won’t force her to choose…Heda needs me to bow to her, she needs me to join her as one of her clan leaders or she will be forced to kill me, or be seen as weak to her leaders. The easiest thing to do, the safest thing is to have me killed, but she won’t do it, and I hate her for it.

I hate her for it because it’s so _unlike_ Heda. Heda doesn’t tolerate weakness, Heda eliminates doubt, Heda doesn’t tolerate threats to her command, or it being undermined, Gustus, Octavia being perfect examples of Lexa’s clear cut ruthless brand of leadership. Heda has killed or wanted to kill for less and her stubborn refusal not to kill me, not to follow her own philosophy enrages me because how dare she care about my life _now? How dare she go against the clans, now?_ It’s too little too late, and I’d rather her kill me and have it done with.

I would rather die than bow to the bitch, to that traitor. In Polis, nice cell aside, I’m a glorified prisoner and I hate my keeper. I want her dead. I want Heda to pay for what she did to us, I want her to pay for the mess she left me in at the Mountain, and so when Roan gives me a chance to end this… to end her… I take the dagger. I slip it up my sleeve and go to my room, and count… I count the bodies. I remember each face I saw before pulling that lever, I picture Jasper, broken. I think about my mom refusing to look me in the eye, disgusted with me, telling me the blood on my hands would never was off, like I didn’t already know that. I remember Heda’s face, her words, firm and cold before she turns from me, calling to her soldiers to pull back. And like that she was done, gone. Leaving me with one choice to save my people. It wasn’t hard to amp myself up, to let hatred take me, and then to send for her. It wasn’t hard to tighten my fingers around the blade, waiting for her to come.

And she does, soon. Heda strides into the room, straight backed, sombre, her presence commanding as she speaks, into my silence, her voice a little impatient “You sent for me, I am here”.

 Three months in the forest, alone, wild… lost in my pain that I embrace just as I embrace how violent I have become. I almost laugh at the irony… blood must have blood, and she owes me hers. I let the bitterness, the savageness take over and launch myself at her, managing to catch her off guard and press the blade to her slender neck. But I can’t bring myself to do it, to drag that sharpened blade across her skin, to spit that column in two. I push myself to _do_ it and letting the hate flood me as I press her tighter just _begging_ for a reaction that could let me fall over the edge. But Heda doesn’t struggle, she doesn’t resist… she could put up a fight, she could more than likely take me down, but she doesn’t. Instead her eyes bore into mine with such disgusting compassion, that I can’t bear to look at it… but I can’t look away from. In Lexa’s green eyes there is so much understanding… so much remorse and my grip on the blade loosens, and when she says it… “I’m sorry”. I know I won’t be able to do it, and I hate myself for it.

I let her go with a shove, turning away, trying to block out the quiet voice that speaks to me through my hazy mix of rain and pain “I never meant to turn you into this.”

Lexa’s words sting me like a whip, because what did she expect? What did she think leaving me with no choice but to murder hundreds of innocent people would do to me? Finally, horror in her voice Lexa seems to get it… that I am the monster her actions made. Heda isn’t stupid, knows she won’t get my cooperation, and finally I think… I am going to die. She can’t let me live, and I don’t even want to. I think I’m relieved until Heda… surprises me again, her gentle voice, so freaking gentle in the quiet room, tells my mom is coming for me, that she is sending me home to my people… just like that. Heda leaves and I cry for the first time in months, because I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to live, but I don’t deserve to die. And I’m so tired.

Kane and my Mom come, for the first time since Mt. Weather, I look at my mother, and I can’t bear what I see… I can’t deal with how she looks at me, with the way Kane looks at me. When she reaches out and pulls me into a hug, I feel empty, and have to literally stop myself from pushing her away. I know as soon as I see them, that I am not going back, I make a plan to lose them as soon as we are out of Trikru lands… but while they are here, I know I should probably tell them, they are still my people… they have a right to know, that Lexa wants us in the coalition. Whether I hate Heda or not, it’s not my decision to make, so I take a deep breath and begin to tell them about Lexa wanting to make Skaikru the 13th Clan. Kane and mom are surprised, but Kane sees straight away how advantageous being a part of the coalition could be, we would have protection, trade, support from the Capital, horses, raw materials… things we can’t get with a treaty. Kane has always admired Lexa, believes the bitch is a visionary, and I can see he wants to accept it, my mom… she know Lexa isn’t trustworthy but even though what Lexa proposed was risky… it would be extremely profitable for Skaikru should we accept it. Before I brought it to them, I thought it over, and didn’t see what Lexa stood to gain from the arrangement other than my cooperation, other than Wanheda… so if Heda was so pragmatic, why wouldn’t she just kill me? A thought crosses my mind, one that brings my rage back to the surface… could this be her way of making amends? Because if it is it’s far too late and there is not a chance in hell.

The more we talk it over, the more obvious it seems that we _have_ to take the deal, that we would be crazy not to. Ice Nation is causing trouble and if it is to start a war, we would be safer as a Clan than as a treaty member. So it is decided… Skaikru becomes the thirteenth clan, I swallow my pride and I bow to the woman, for my people. Instead of making a break for it in the forest I take the role of Ambassador to keep an eye on the untrustworthy bitch, and swear to myself this time that she will keep her word… or I’ll kill her for it.

 

******

That was how it began here, but Polis… Polis is an incredible place… I’ve never been to anywhere like it, Lexa told me once it would change the way I think about the grounders, and despite everything it does. The people are painfully clear cut, and arguably brutal, they are not savage… their ways are different, they are hard, but they have to be, in the world they grew up in.  Being able to see just how so many thriving people have been able to come together and create this place, being able to see how the people who by all rights shouldn exist at all were able to create, to survive, to thrive out of the ashes of what was left of the irradiated earth gives me a new understanding as to why they are the way they are. They are fighters, they fight to survive.

It isn’t an understanding that I wanted, or looked for… hell, I vowed to hate Lexa until the end of my days but I can’t help the part of me, the rational part that looks at her people, so _many_ people, all these children, so many lives that Lexa has vowed to protect, tens of thousands of people… that _gets_ it. I get why Heda did what she did. Despite how much I hate her I _can_ in understand why Lexa made the choice she did at the Mountain, the same hard choice she made in TonDC. She taught me something, back when we were allies, back when I respected the woman, cold as she was; Being a true leader is hard, not every battle can be one and sometimes it is necessary to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many. Is it cruel? Barbaric? That’s debateable. But having done the same thing, having blown up hundreds of Lexa’s warriors, having irradiated a nation to save my own, I _know_ that there is no victory… not without sacrifice. Roles reversed, if I had been offered that deal with Cage; would I have made the same decision? I can’t say for sure… but it’s possible. I understand why Lexa did what she did, but I don’t forgive her for it.

 Heda and Lexa… when I arrive in Polis, are one in the same. I tolerate her because I have to, I am barely civil to the bitch but to be fair to the Commander she doesn’t expect anything more from me. Ambassador she calls me… that is my title, one I bear with almost as much distain as I do for Wanheda. Heda knows the only reason I agree to stay in Polis is because I don’t trust her, that I’m here for my people, to see that she keeps her word. She doesn’t try to explain herself, to justify her actions at Mount Weather because when she looks at me, those deep green eyes, that impassive face.I can see that she knows… knows that _it_ …that _I_ am a lost cause. Heda knows that she is beyond my forgiveness.

I still have to see her though. I have to interact with Heda on a regular basis, and as ambassador to Skaikru, I regularly participate in meetings about the 13 clans. I am obliged to attend every afternoon meal with Heda and present Clan leaders…but after that I’m free. I’m no longer considered a prisoner, I am given a bigger, extravagant chamber, one without locked doors. Heda gives me a maid, freedom to roam free in the city and surrounding forest, but most of all I am given space. Heda never forces her company upon me, only sending for me when necessary, never overstepping, and never pushing, never trying to engage me in anything that goes beyond my duties… she leaves me be, and I let her.

During my time in Polis, I begin to really gain a fuller picture of their culture, their beliefs, and their history. I get to see the pure adoration that they have for Heda… the love she has for them. It surprised me in the beginning, I’ve never seen anything like it, on the Ark our leaders were respected, some more than others but never they were loved. As the coalition leaders ride through the city behind Heda, people the throng around us, chanting her name, offering her gifts, smiling as she passes. Even on less formal occasions, people speak highly of her in the streets, and Lexa she interacts as often as she can with them, she sees they are fed, watered, sheltered, she takes time to listen to their stories, their requests, even when at the market. Despite the sheer number of people I haven’t seen one starving child in the city, the people seem to be thriving and I guess a begrudging respect is reborn.

Sometimes, I notice on her free days that Lexa slips out, head covered, dressed in basic clothes, blending in, avoiding all the ceremony that comes with being Heda. I do not know what she does during her free time, in the beginning I do not care, but the more time I spend in Polis, the more my attention is drawn to her, and I find myself wondering more than once where is Lexa going?.

When I’ve been in Polis about three months that anger that used to eat me up alive has simmered down to a low smoulder. It’s still alight, but it doesn’t consume me completely anymore. I still can’t bear to look in a mirror, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what did, but there is something about Polis… about how vibrant the city is that gives me hope for my people. I hope that if we can integrate, that our peoples become one that we can share our cultures, our knowledge, that we can thrive like they did. Polis gives me hope that someday, though I will never say irradiating those people was worth, maybe what I did wasn’t for nothing.

 

******

But as time passes, and the more I heal, the lonelier I feel.  It’s not that I miss the Ark… I don’t want to go back, I’m not ready to go back. It’s hard to say how I can feel lonely, when I don’t want to spend time with anyone I love…but I am… I don’t understand it, not until one day during meeting realise I am not the only one.

During my time at Polis, all the meetings, summits, my time as ambassador I see that truly Lexa has no one around her, not anymore… and I guess neither do I. There is Bellamy, but he hurts, he feels like I’ve abandoned him, Octavia hates me for being the leader people need but don’t want, Raven hates me for killing Finn… there is my own mother, who can’t even look my in the eye… there are my people… who never have enough of me… but I have none of them. Lexa, like me, is surrounded by people, people who she works to protest, people who follow her, but Lexa is still alone, and maybe she is lonely too.

Maybe it was this that made me consider toeing the line between allies and friendship, but I start paying more attention to the leader after that. I observe her proud on her throne, dealing with problem after problem of her people, watch her settle disputes, handle the bickering clans, and plan endless strategies for endless outcomes. I watch and sometimes during those rare moments of free time, catch when Heda’s mask slips for a second, I observe her gaze with wide eyes about her, her tiredness clouding those Jade pools before her mask slips back into place. She never knows I see it, but it draws me to her, even though I fight against it in the beginning.

If I’m being honest, like really honest… I can admit my time in Polis has given me some perspective. I realise during my time as ambassador, working within this complex political system that Lexa is the only one that has never demanded anything from me, not before the Mountain, not after. Lexa has never accused me of not being enough, she has never accused me of not doing enough. What makes me see this is seeing how much Lexa’s people love her, and their respect for her points out the stark differences in the way my people treat me. When I think of own people, the people I love and work so hard to protect, I know how they see me: a failure.  

Lexa’s people may be bloodthirsty, but they at least seem understand that victory and peace come with a price. My own people don’t understand this… they haven’t had to do the things that I had to do, things that I have done for them. They complain, bicker and fight while I work hard to save us, to save us from ourselves. They don’t have that blood, the blood of those they love on their hands… I take it for them, I make the hard decisions and they hate me for it.  But Lexa… she has been through what I have. She pretends not to love, but I see the weight of the souls she bears from TonDC, Gustus, and even Costia… I see them all even though she thinks she hides them so well. Maybe I see them because I have a burden of my own.

 

*****

I learned over the last year that the Commander has two faces, there is Heda… always Heda; but as began to see before Mt Weather there is more to her than that, there is also a Lexa. The contrast between the two characters is striking… yes both are the same person, both are as sharp as a knife, intelligent, quick witted, but where the Commander is strong, Lexa is quiet, where the Commander is decisive, Lexa is hesitant. Where the Commander loves nothing, Lexa tries not to love anything but doesn’t really succeed. Lexa loves books, she loves the forest, she loves children, and she loves horses and dogs. I can tell, from the little I get to see there is a lot of love in Lexa, but that it’s stamped out by the Commander.

I’m more aware of her, in the months that follow but she doesn’t notice, I watch her go about her day, sometimes accompanying her on political business, I watch her interact with these things that she loves. Lexa _always_ smiles lightly when she sees children, always, even as Heda, riding beyond Polis on her horse, when she sees a child, and a slight smile graces those lips. She talks to her horse, Lexa will ride beyond me, ahead, alone, and I will hear her muttering to the horse, occasionally reaching forward to brush him between his ears. Heda will ignore any animal, not even giving a jumping dog a second glance… she will pay it no attention unless she thinks she is unobserved and then quickly or under the cover of a table a hand will drop down, and she will scratch him behind the ear before giving him a push to depart, surreptitiously glancing around to make sure no one sees. But I do.

I’m reading an old battered book one day, one I have had since the Ark, Lexa passes me, and her eyes fall to the book and light up. Defying her usual disinterest in me, she comes to me, standing a short distance away, head held high, and hands are clasped behind her back as she asks “What is the title of the book you read, Clarke?” I don’t look up, and hesitate before responding “The Book Thief” my tone is a cold one and she nods, once before walking away, leaving me to turn back to my book and wonder why she even cares, it’s not like grounders read anyway

I am wrong, obviously. After this I find out that she is one of few grounders to read, all Heda’s are taught out of necessity, but Lexa does it for pleasure. It is she who is in charge teaching of the Nightsblood, she works them hard, and expects a lot, of course children being children they think reading lessons are more boring than combat training and grumble every now and then. If Lexa overhears them (which she always does) the offending kid is cuffed on the back of the head followed by a brief lecture of the benefits of such a skill. A few months ago I overheard her in the hall, surrounded by the children gushing about the possibilities books bring, how they are a reality outside themselves and one of humankinds most impressive creations. Lexa says the mind is a weapon as dangerous as a blade, and to keep it sharp it requires stimulation, and books are the whetstone that trains the mind to have its keenest edge, she is not wrong.  

  
As time wears on we become a little easier with one another, and our first middle ground happens to be books. I find out Lexa spends a small fortune procuring them, they are hard to come by and almost never intact, but over the years as Heda she has amassed a sizable collection. Finding out I enjoy reading as much as she does, Lexa tells me I can borrow what I want from her personal library that she keeps in her chambers. At first, I don’t, at this point it’s still hard to accept anything from the woman, whether I’m warming to her or not, but eventually boredom drives me to her room to borrow one, and after that it becomes less difficult. Each time I pass to take one it gets easier, and each time Lexa is there, she will be sitting on her floor, and offer me a slight smile before turning her attention back to what she is doing.

Lexa reads on her floor, she meditates on her floor, she literally, from what I have seen… does everything in her bedroom, on the floor. I have never seen her sit in the big armchair sits in the corner, I’ve only seen her lay reading on her bed a handful of times. Lexa doesn’t usually talk with me when I come, but she lets me take what I want, but rarely, when I can’t seem to make up my mind she recommend me a book. One day I’m looking between two books, unable to decide and she stands up from her place on the floor and comes to see which ones I’m looking at, holding a another copy in her own hand. When she stands, curiosity gets the better of me and I hear myself ask “Why do you sit on the floor when there is like a chair, and a bed, and… I don’t know… places to sit?”

Lexa looks taken aback by the question, the question I didn’t even really mean to ask. She pauses, those green eyes blink before she shrugs slightly and closes the book she holds in hand and passes it to me. “Take this one, Clarke. I just finished it, it was excellent, and I advise you to try it.” I think she is going to ignore the question and I’m about to let it go when I hear her clear her throat and continue, in her low gentle voice, looking at her nails as she speaks “Why I rather sit on the floor is quite simple, Clarke. I was born to a Trikru tribe far to the east of here, one that is isolated in the wilderness… our villages are very basic compared to Polis. Our houses were small, people always sit on the floor beside the fire… there is not much need or space for seats, couches or otherwise. It is true that though I left my village as a young child after discovery of my nightsblood, I never became fond of chairs.”

 

It’s honest, and it will stick with me forever. It is also it’s the first thing Lexa has ever shared with me about before she became Heda… it’s not much, but it’s something. Admittedly there is also something kind of touching, something that’s kind of sweet and charming that an aspect so simple from Lexa’s childhood, manages to stay with her through it all, even as Heda. Its only later in my bedroom, when I’m thinking it over that night that I realise there is something also a little ironic and sad about it…because Lexa doesn’t like chairs, yet Heda sits on a throne all day long.

 

******

 

I try to keep hating her, but I’m realising hate takes a lot more energy that it’s worth, and she is the only person I know in the Capital my own age. I’m alone here, she is the only person why can possibly relate to my position, to me and so despite the fact I fight it I start to warm to her, even though the Commander still maintains her distance. Heda ensures I am well fed and cared for as her ambassador, she makes sure I have everything I need, clothes, accommodations, a personal maid, all that an ambassador might want and more. But Lexa, Lexa sends me things, for me, arts supplies paper, everything. I refused to use them at first, I could not bring myself to bring pen to paper, I refused to allow myself that release, a release I didn’t believe I deserved after Mount Weather, but a few months in I finally open the large box of items she has sent me, and it’s like nothing I’ve never imagined.

 Lexa has sent me pigmented charcoals with colours so rich and vibrant, that my tongue begs me to taste them. They look delicious but are in fact, totally gross… but they colour and blend like nothing I’ve never used, the colours so intense that I actually cannot get over it as I test them, drawing one solid line of colour after another… and I gape, just staring at the lines in front of me, wondering if these colours can even be real. Then there are the soft textured papers, the sharpened charcoal and a thick spongy strange textured blob that erases the marks on the page. I sit inspired, shakily I reach out for one of the chalks, and I press it to paper, and with a deep breath, for the first time in months… I draw.

The weather improves and I start to spend more time in the forest on my free afternoons, often bringing a small pack with chalks and papers to sketch the landscape, wildlife, anything really. More than once on my way out, I bump into Lexa. I’ve already noticed that she disappears for hours, though I never knew where, but I guess now that it’s the forest. When we meet end up walking the same way, walking together for a while until I reach the river and then we go our separate ways.  It was by chance I bumped into her, and by chance the next day… until though it’s not planned, it becomes a regular occurrence.

During these walks sometimes we practice my Trigedasleng and as we spend more time together I learn a little more about Lexa’s past. With some prompting she tells me with a nostalgic smile about her time before she was Heda, when she was Anya’s second, she recalls how sparring with the older girl that would leave her stiff for a week. Rarer still she mentions Gustus, once telling me a short story about how when she was twelve and she managed to knock him off his feet, and that she felt such pride seeing the huge man fall, laughing in surprise that she has never forgotten it. Lexa never mentions Costia.

Lexa’s mask as Heda never slips with her people, she is always calm, controlled, and aloof. With me she can be warmer, less guarded but I know she maintains her distance, the only time I really it even crack it in those days is when I stumble across a sparring session with the Nightsblood.

On a slow afternoon Lexa was nowhere to be found, having left early that morning, and I, frustrated and bored decided to go for a walk into the forest, but not to the river. I go deeper and deeper, further than I have probably ever been until I hear shouting and clashing and panic. I pull out my knife and duck behind a tree, ready to fight until I hear the high excited voice of a child carry through the trees, followed by a war cry and what sound like Lexa’s voice shout “Nodotaim!”  The tension melts away and I sheath my blade and quietly make my way towards the commotion. I slow down, moving deliberately and quietly as I approach the clearing. When I step out from behind the trees to the side of the clearing Lexa in the middle, surrounded by six children between the ages 6 to twelve. The children are completely covered in protective garbs. They move to stand huddled together, obviously formulating a plan as the Commander looks on, amused. Lexa is dressed in a lighter leather protection and holding a heavy wooden sword. Her hair glints in the sunlight, her face is free from war paint and there is a slight look of delight that sits on her lips as the hoard of children stop their grouped muttering quickly turning and fan out. They cover ground quickly, running towards her screaming, brandishing an assortment of weapons. They surround the Heda, screaming launching themselves at the Commander to only get swept aside by a foot, or to be tripped, pushed or smacked lightly by the smiling warrior. Lexa looks so young, so free, playing with the children and it’s a side of her that I have never seen before. I feel myself smiling for the first time in I don’t know how long, and cant contain the snort that slips out as a small child no older than 8 manages from his position on the ground to kick the Commander in the shin. The kid cries out in triumph as Lexa hisses and reaches down to pull him up by the foot before my laugh distracts her, and her head shoots up to look at me dead in the eye.

The child wriggles and laughs, but her grip is infallible as she stares at me, surprise written all over her face as she holds her stance, kid half dangling by the ankle. The other children seize their chance from her momentary distraction, three rush her from the front and two from the back, the kid she is holding grapples her ankles as she pivots holding off two children but being swarmed by the rest. Some jump upon the Commander’s back, scaling her like a tree and others attack the legs of the Commander who seems reluctant to shake them off. Pausing a moment, she allows herself to be dragged back though I can’t see her face but suddenly from within the writing mass, comes a short but sweet, melodious, rich laugh that is quickly stifled. I’m struck by the humanity of it, but the lyrical sound of it, a sound so light and uncharacteristic that has come from the sombre girl I’ve always known her to be… and it hits a chord inside of me.

 

I’m still thinking about it when a few minutes later Lexa extracts herself from the giggling children, smiling slightly, but with her mask back in place. She stands tall again raises her chin before sternly regarding the children as she speaks “Niteblidas… this is why you must never let yourself be distracted during battle, even in training. Distraction is the root of failure. This was my downfall and if it were a real battle I would be dead. I commend you however for taking advantage of the opening, for seizing your chances and overcoming me. Remember the lesson, you are dismissed for the day.”

 

I still can’t shake the sound of that short burst of joy that came from her and somehow it makes me edgy. Lexa walks towards me, standing straight and proud as ever but she can’t help the slight grin that seems to be tugging at the corner of her mouth “Clarke, what are you doing so far from the palace?” I try to come off indifferent, though my curiosity gets the better of me “I was bored, and wanted to walk…I heard the commotion and came to have a look… I didn’t know you trained children personally.”

Lexa frowns slightly, puzzling over my wording, and I know it is the word bored that puzzles her, and it draws a tiny smirk from me. She doesn’t let it faze her though, she responds quickly to my question, the pride evident for her charges in her voice “Yes, they are the Nightsblood… I am personally charged with their care and training. They are advancing well.”

I raise a brow and smirk before drawling “I see that…already managing to overcome the legendary Heda at under 10 years old. That is quite a feat indeed.”

The corner of Lexa’s mouth quirks, she pauses a moment before answering and when she does I am surprised that it’s in the same teasing tone as mine “Quite a feat indeed, Clarke. Though I might point out, I was distracted by the sound of your laughter. I had not expected to see you today.”

Something about the simple honesty of her response both thrills and alarms me a little but I shake it off with a joke “What was it you said to the Nightsblood just now? Something like… distraction is the root of failure?”

This sarcastic quip earns me an actual smile, though it’s a small tight lipped one her her green eyes burn bright. “I have told you before Clarke. Mockery is not the product of a strong mind. However, enough of that. You mentioned you are… bored? I take this to mean that you are lacking entertainment… is there something you need? Would you like me to have more art supplies sent to your room?”

Lexa is gone and Heda comes, suddenly all business. It’s obvious she is flustered by out little exchange, definitely the friendliest we have shared so far and obviously prefers to slip back into her comfort zone. I’m slightly amused but I keep a straight face, responding maybe a little too bluntly “No Lexa, I have plenty of supplies. I don’t know, I’m just… I’m not used to this… this… free time I guess.”

Lexa studies me a moment, her face once again expressionless. The woman who laughed minutes ago is suddenly sealed in an internal fortress. Lexa’s reply is cool, calm and collected as she says “I know a little of this difficulty, time is not always a friend but you should enjoy the peace while it lasts, Clarke. Chances for it are few and far between in this life. That being said it is not always easy, but I will leave you now to continue whatever it is you are doing.”

Lexa turns away and I’m not sure what comes over me, maybe it’s because she actually understands what it’s like to have your own thoughts to torment you, maybe it’s because I am like I said, bored… or maybe it’s because I want to try and pull out the girl who was smiling and laughing minutes before but I speak quickly, before she has a chance to move away “Do you want to walk with me, Heda?”. It’s the first time I’ve specifically asked her for her company, instead of it just happening and she knows it as well as I do.

Lexa’s eyes widen for a second before she nods in that way she does, once. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t ask me why I asked her to come, and she walks with me through the forest for over two hours in silence. Not uncomfortable silence but… it was as if we didn’t need to say anything… because both of us know there is nothing to be said.

 

******

 

Overtime, so slowly that I’m not really its conscious it’s happening, I start to feel the residual resentment and disdain for the woman dissipate into something weaker, and as the hate goes the hurt comes. And it catches me off guard because of all the things to feel, I wasn’t expecting _that._ I expected the betrayal, anger, the rage of course, but once that goes… I realise that when Lexa turned her back on us, she didn’t just walk away from Skaikru but from me too. I hadn’t been ready to take things further with her then but I see now that I really cared about her, that I had let her in. I see now just how much I wanted her, and how could I not have? The Lexa I knew back then was fierce, smart, strategic and a visionary. The Lexa I knew back then barely smiled, though sometimes with me she did, slightly, subtly, almost like it wasn’t there at all. The Lexa I knew back then had piercing jade eyes, pink full lips and a stunning face. I fell for hard and fast for her… but Finns death, it left me broken… just like the boy that died, bleeding out against me.

Having feelings for her, came as a surprise…I should’ve hated her for having him killed, Raven did, but I knew it was going to come to this, it was either giving him up or to all-out war. I didn’t want to believe it, I would have taken his place, because Finn lost it, before he killed those people, he was trying to save me, in the most horrible way. I tried to save him, but he was beyond saving… Finn wasn’t a bad guy… he was not made for life on earth. I decided if I started this I was going to end it ... maybe I should’ve hated her then, but I didn’t have the strength. Slipping the knife into his heart, I saved him from the hundreds of cuts he would endure, I felt his warmth seep from him and onto me, and the life drain from him. His blood is on my hands, as is the blood he spilled in my name. I may not have loved him the way Raven did, I may not have loved him the way he loved me but it never should have come to that and I miss him. Not our time together, but I missed the boy who became my friend on the ground, I missed the Finn who made me laugh, and I missed my friend. Finn wasn’t perfect, I know the wrongs he did, terrible things, but he paid for his crimes, and I mourned him.

A few short months after, I had forged a strong respect for Heda, and a fondness for the rare instances of Lexa. Our alliance was going well for the most part, our plan to attack the Mountain was slipping into place, Finns death still hurt, but no longer broke me down. So when Lexa kissed me, even though I was surprised… I kissed her back. It was such _good_ kiss… it was something so much gentler than I thought Heda, or Lexa capable of. It was so much tenderer than any kiss I’ve shared before, and when her lips pulsed against mine, hesitant, and questioning I finally realised how far I had fallen for her.  

It was also why I couldn’t kiss her… not yet… I couldn’t allow myself to fall further, not while trying to avoid a war, not with things so tense between our people, and a battle to win, not while Finns blood still dried on my hands. When I stopped the kiss and looked into those turquoise pools, that’s all I needed to say… “Not yet”. I didn’t need to explain myself as Lexa pulled back further, the respectful Heda giving me space. She nodded once understanding and disappointment clear in those turquoise depths, and I thought to myself… someday. Lexa didn’t push me, she didn’t try and change my mind, she respected my decision and I felt myself fall for her more. There could have been a someday between us, there would have been if mount weather hadn’t happened… but it did.

And when it did, I swore that I’d never again let her in, that I’d never again let myself care for her, that I’d never leave myself open to her betrayal… I swore I would kill her but here I am in Polis ten months later and the Commander has somehow become my best friend. Ten months later and battling the inevitable attraction to the beautiful leader, fighting my growing affection for her along with knowledge my people would never understand or accept it. How could they understand that Lexa somehow gets me, and that I get her? How could my mother possibly ever accept that I feel things for Lexa that I haven’t before for anyone… even though I hate myself for it, even though part of me hates her, for what Heda did? How could anyone else believe I am falling for someone who touches a part of me I thought died along with those people on the Mountain… because she left me there? Nobody can, because the bottom line is it’s fucked up, but we live in a fucked up world, and it is what it is.

Does Lexa care about me about me? She does… her actions make it obvious but what is not clear is the _way_ she feels about me… it is friendship or more?  Does she want me? That begs another question; Does Lexa let herself want anyone? The Commanders mantra is “Love is weakness” and I know Lexa well enough that she doesn’t succumb to weakness. The only thing I can be sure of between us is that Lexa is as secretly grateful to have me as I am to have her… not that I’ll ever tell her, or that she would ever admit it. Lexa above all else is proud, she wouldn’t like to know that I _see_ how lonely she is, she wouldn’t want me to know she is even capable of loneliness. Heda, Lexa, the Commander… she pretends to be so strong and emotionless but I know better because she said it herself… I am like her.

 

 

Lexa

 

Friendship is not something Lexa has known much through her life, but she knows the process, she knows what it is and how it works and she has had friends before, though they are lost to her now. It is because of this she recognises the signs, she knows that every time Clarke knocks on her door in the middle of an obligation free afternoon just to “hang” as the Skaipeople call it, that it is the beginning of something. Nothing in the intimate sense, Lexa knows this, she knew it the moment Cage offered her that deal in mount weather, the moment she had to put head over heart and walked away from the only one who was ever someone other than Costia.

Truly, though regrettable it was perhaps for the best that she had turned her back. Perhaps it was best that Clarke saw her for what she was before it was too late, that she saw that Lexa’s people come before everyone, before everything. Perhaps it was best that Clarke saw her as the ruthless Heda she is, that she has to be, before it was too late. Too late meaning dead of course, Costia payed the price of loving Lexa with her life, and so Heda learned finally, the hard way after years having it drummed into her, that to love is to be weak. Loving leaves the ones you love in danger, and it leaves you vulnerable, prone to making bad decisions, open to attack. “Hodnes laik kwelnes” was the mantra she had learned all her life, Titus repeating it like a prayer. “Hodnes laik kwelnes” a teaching she had once so solidly refused to accept, is in fact… true. Lexa understand now that to be Heda is to be alone. Lexa repeats it, over and over again night after night as she remembers holding her lovers head in her hands, a girl who was so beautiful, bloodied, grey and discoloured. A woman she barely recognised, cradled in her arms, so cold as she slides down to sit on her bed, her legs too weak to hold her and promising herself, promising Cositia’s clouded gaze that she would never let another die for her, not like this.

So perhaps it was for the best that Lexa and Clarke would never have their someday… though the more time she spends with the blonde, the harder it becomes to convince herself that she really believes it.

It has been over 10 months since Clarke has chosen to remain in Polis, three months of working towards an agreement with the coalition, managing Azgeda and desperately trying to incorporate Skaikru firmly into the coalition’s and as the thirteenth clan. Things are more difficult that I wish them to be, Nia continues to test my patience, Skaikru become more divided and obtuse, Kane tries to keep order but Pike, pike breeds dissident, and Skaikru, weak in their ways hesitate to eliminate him.

As their Heda, I could demand it, but trying to forge a lasting coalition sometimes means ceding battles to win a war, to set aside personal feelings and look at the greater good, and though it would surely facilitate my life, I believe it could just turn Skaikru further from us, and so I wait.

 

When Clarke first took on role of ambassador she did so with reluctance, yet ten months on however she seems not only to have embraced her role, but to enjoy it too. In the beginning, it was difficult, the girl actively detested me, hated herself, she had become wild in her time alone and it took me some time to recognise the woman I knew _before_ the Mountain. I had thought I had perhaps killed her, that I had killed Clarke Griffin and left a shell of a women behind when those blazing blue eyes bore into mine with such loathing. When I saw her pain… I recognised it, and for not the first time, I saw myself in her, I saw the pain of the souls she bears and it touched my own, the souls of the people of TonDC and so many others. I never meant to do it to her, to betray her, to put her in that untenable position, but my duty binds me above all else ad so I had to put head over heart, and do my people justice. She made her decision as a leader, and I made mine…I bear the burden Clarke does, but I have been trained to carry such a weight since childhood and still I struggle under its weight. Clarke, she is different, because she has this duty, this burden pushed upon her though she never sought it, never wanted it, was never trained for it, but the people see what I see, she is what she is… she is a leader.

It took time, once the worst of the rage had passed and once the girl could tolerate my presence without frothing at the mouth for me to see that though Clarke was damaged, she was not broken. Clarke is so much stronger than she gives herself credit for, she is stronger than even I imagined her to be. And I have faith that one day, the souls of the Mountain will release her from their grasp and she shall find peace, as shall they.

 

*****

 

After all said and done, I expected nothing from the girl. I understood her feelings towards me more than she could know. I have submitted to the horror of forcing yourself tolerating someone you despise. It never gets easier… I feel the same about permitting the murderess Nia into my own coalition, when the only thing I wish to do was to tear her limb from limb and feed her to a pauna, but my people come first and if I must tolerate her to avoid a war, then tolerate her I will. I would not force my presence on Clarke like this, her presence in Polis is necessary, as is interaction with me as ambassador, but I try to make all dealings as brief as possible. I leave the girl space, though I admit, part of me longs to talk to her, to try and make her see, to try and make her understand… but I do not, because there are somethings that “I am sorry” cannot change.

Over time however, painfully slowly, the disdain and hatred from the girl seems to ebb. I see her coming and going to her rooms, face streaked with paint and I am glad to see at last, that she is drawing again. She walks, she wanted, she learns our language and watches my people… our people now. We are one in the same. Times passes, and Polis suits Clarke, she wears our garb, dresses her hair as we do, she seems happy here... She seems to be healing. 

She no longer looks like she wishes to murder me, and hasn’t raised a hand to me since that day she held a knife to my neck. Instead there is a reasonable exchange, sometimes banter, and most of the time an odd sort of sarcasm that is directed at me, something that she calls “teasing”. I do not mind it in the least, the only people who ever dared to mock me lightly were Costia and Anya, and it is a type of casualness I have not had since their absence… a familiarity that I miss more I am willing to acknowledge.

Clarke with her strange sayings and dry wit can be most amusing, though I try not to let her see how much I enjoy her, or her jests. She teases me often, but I suppose sometimes it is good to be able to laugh at oneself, which I do, though internally. For my part I am very pleased to note that I too cause her to smile often, and rarely to laugh too. It thrills me, for though I never much mastered the wordplay necessary to make jokes, I have been known to have a rather dry and quick wit on occasion, though few get to see it. Heda has no time, nor the place for such frivolousness.

After 6 months things have progressed admirably. The days we are not engaged with politics or obligations we actively seek each other out, Clarke comes and goes to my chambers as she pleases… for some reason she no longer feels the need to knock, but perhaps I am so relieved to have her come at all it does not bother me, even though I have always valued my solitude. However, I would never dare take such liberties, Heda or not I know our fledging friendship is not on equal footing. Clarke still resents me, and though perhaps she understands, does she forgive? Clarke cannot forgive me before she forgives herself, and I do not believe she ever will allow it. So I proceed with caution, when I venture to her chambers, I knock and wait a moment before opening the door. I don’t wait for Clarke to open it anymore because I know she will not. She has told me before it bothers her to move, and when she calls to enter. I wait for her signature “Yeah.” Before pushing the door open. Clarke is almost always in her arm chair drawing, she doesn’t acknowledge me with more than a grunt if she is sketching but I know well enough that she is happy with my presence. These days I take a book and sit or stretch out on her couch, all in a companionable silence. The steady scratching of her pencil soothes me more than most things do, allowing me to truly relax, and enjoy the book. Time passes and I look forward to her company like I do few other things, its more than I dared hope for… it’s more than I probably deserve. It has to be enough but somehow… it is not.

Clarke appears at training session with the novices, catching me off guard, and leaving me feeling strangely vulnerable. Training them is one of the few genuine pleasures I take as Heda and though know I should not grow too attached to the Niteblidas, I find I cannot help myself. For all their training, fighting, and conditioning, for all the weight we put upon their narrow shoulders, they are still children. I remember how seriously I took my training, as they do… I remember Heda… his general disdain for youngsters, and I do not share the sentiment. I have always carried a fondness for children and their enthusiasm ignites my own, the Niteblidas especially will carry on my legacy, and to do that, I must give them my utmost engagement. I am hard on them, but fair, gentler than previous Heda’s, but I also put a focus on brains and not just brawn which has been the key to my survival thus far.

 We are in the middle of a sparring session when I hear laughter to the side of me, and like a fool, I let my guard down and am completely distracted by the blonde woman who stands smirking at me, a hand on a hip and a quirk to her brow. Of course, my novices are trained to take advantage of such carelessness and soon surround me. Normally I should throw them off, fight them, show them a Heda is brave, strong, ruthless but as I hear Aden laugh behind me, as my youngest twists around the floor trying you shirt of my grip on his leg, he grapples my ankles, and then the rest swarm me, enthusiastic and all together ruthless as they shout to each other in exited Triegedasleng. I decide to concede the victory, and let them pull me down, having more fun than I have in a long time.

When I disengage, I end their lesson and walk to the Skaigirl who waits for me, a strange expression clouding her beautiful face. Catching myself thinking of her like this… as beautiful, I quickly distance myself… I become Heda, until Clarke asks me to walk with her. This is the first time, in all the months we have spent time together, intentional or otherwise, that she has r _equested_ my company and I can barely contain my surprise. I almost say no… I should…I have many things to do and the girl has already proven herself to be a distraction, training with children or not. But as always, the girl compels me like no other and I find myself nodding in agreement, and following her along her trail.

I am not certain why she initiates this tenuous friendship, perhaps she misses the Skaipeople people but I don’t think it is that… Clarke doesn’t need people, not like others do. Perhaps it is because though she hates me for it, that I _see_ her, I _see_ what she is, who she is because we are one and the same. We are what we are meant to be, born to be…leaders to our people, whether or not we wished for it. Or perhaps it is simply to use her strange Skaikru turn of phrase she is in fact “bored”, but whatever the reason, I am just grateful for her company.

 

******

We do not always see eye to eye, for the most part our uneasy alliance remains tense and I believe there shall be an end to it one morning when Clarke, forever the advocate for life, refuses to let me deal with a problem Kane seems to be ignoring. Pike is sowing seeds of unrest, a coup would be all too easy should he gain the support, and the simplest option is to remove the threat. Clarke and I end up engaged in a heated argument about my desire to have him assassinated. Wanheda lives up to her title as she bellows at me, as no one else would dare to do and though I try to remain calm I do not succeed. My temper, through rare, flares because Clarke has a way of getting under my skin, of garnering a reaction from me that few people do, and soon we are shouting at each other at the top of our lungs. I declare the man a dead man walking and Clarke storms from the room without being given leave, she slams the door and leaves me there, red faced, seething… and inexplicably frightened. Frightened of what? It is hard to say, but a part of me believes that any progress made over the last 8 months is now doomed, and fledging friendship dead, and it hurts deeper than a knife cut.    
  
The rest of that day is a bad one, one I spend questioning my actions, though certain in my decision, wondering if I had been too harsh, too stubborn. Titus doesn’t help… he openly dislikes Clarke, accuses her of having influence over me, of disrespect, of manipulation and it has just gotten worse since heard the altercation between us. He wanted her killed for daring to raise her voice to me, and though he has a point, Clarke should not speak to me in such a way… I find I am glad that someone does and I refuse him and order him not to mention it again.

Titus speaks his mind, this is true, he is my most trusted advisor, but he is blinded by religion, blinded by tradition… he does not see how a lasting peace can be obtained, how our coalition could become stronger, how we could evolve with the help of Skaikru. They wield technology we cannot fathom and this frightens him, he wants me to wipe them out, he wants me to kill Clarke, to kill Wanheda and to take her power… because he fears her… and he is angry she doesn’t fear me. Perhaps I should be too… but I am not. I am not because I have a vision, and it is one that Clarke shares… we dream of peace for our people, because now as the thirteenth clan, her people are my own too.

 

That night I sleep fitfully, still second guessing my argument with Clarke, secretly lamenting the certain loss of her friendship that has become so dear to me in such a short time.

The next morning, it is frightfully early, and though awake for some time I remain in my sleeping attire. I have no reason to rise yet and the early hours I savour, as it is the only time I am truly free from duty. I am absorbed reading a book in bed as Clarke comes barrelling into my room, not even knocking at this early hour and catches me off guard. My instinct kicks in and I pull my knife from under my pillow and lurch to a fighting stance, eyes widening and narrowing in confusion as I finally lower the blade and ask exasperatedly “Clarke… Do Skaipeople not know how to knock at all? What are you doing up so early?”

  
Clarke just looks to my hand with the knife in it and back to my face before sighing and huffing offering no explanation whatsoever before saying. “Get up. We are going to the market.”

My eyebrows raise and I question whether to correct her insolence, but I doubt I can keep a straight face before the sun has risen, undressed and wielding a blade in front of a stone-faced, cross-armed blonde who looks like she won’t take no for an answer. I am just relieved she is here… that she wants to go to the market, with me, that she doesn’t in fact despise me again after yesterday’s bitter dispute. She cannot know this though, she cannot see how relieved I am so instead I raise a brow and manage to sound a lot sterner than I feel as I speak “I am up, Clarke. The market just setting if you want to go early and see it then should leave me….” Clarke stares at me blankly, frowning slightly, obviously thinking I mean she should go alone, and look mutinous about it.

Sighing I gesture to my sleeping attire and continue my sentence “So I can dress…?”

The blonde drops her gaze to my attire, as turning slightly pink as she her gaze fixes on the long tear in the black garb that shows unintentionally, my entire thigh. It is as if Clarke suddenly becomes aware of my state of undress because then her eyes widen scan me in my entirety, before she turns a deep red, lowers her gaze and mutters hoarsely “Yeah… sure.. I’ll be just outside.”

 

Her reaction puzzles me for a moment, for surely it must not be so embarrassing to see another woman in such a state, Skaipeople are strange I deduce, until it occurs to me how I would feel seeing Clarke in the same way. My throat dries, my cheeks flush and suddenly I realise why she could act so awkward… and it terrifies me. If she desires me, I have not anticipated it, if she could desire me, after all that has happened it would be a disaster… for I am barely holding on as it is. I gather myself. I speak reason, I decide that Skaipeople are probably just uptight about such things, I do not let myself think, even for a second, that it could be more.

The sun is rising and the market is set to begin, bathing quickly I brush my teeth and dress quickly, pulling on my clothes before applying my eyewear. I hesitate about putting on my Heda mark but I decide today, the market shall be an informal occasion and pull a shawl over my head to avoid being recognised. Glancing quickly to the mirror I debate about braiding my hair, but it is time consuming and Clarke waits just beyond the door. Sighing I decide to keep it down and make my way from the bedroom, opening the door and coming face to face with Clarke, who still blushes slightly, much to my discomfort.

 

 

 

Clarke

 

 

I’m in Polis 8 months when things begin to get really complicated. For the most part Lexa and I get along well, we hang out, hike, hunt, and chill together, much to Titus dislike. The man hates me, openly, he tolerates me because Lexa insist he does but I can tell he advises her against spending time with me. Things are starting to get complicated at Arkadia, Pike is being an asshole, stirring up trouble, undermining Kane, and of course, Lexa’s first reaction is to have the man killed.

Killing him is the easiest option, but he has a strong following, Bellamy is his number two and an assassination might just give the dissidents enough reason to completely derail everything, to stage a coup, a bloody one and for the Arkdians to be trapped in a civil war. The best thing is the man comes around to the coalition, but Lexa is impatient, she has a point, things are moving quickly but she doesn’t understand Arker mentality. She doesn’t understand how this could push us further from our goal.

 

Lexa won’t listen, Pike has attacked a village and though in clear breech of the treaty I am trying to make her see reason. She won’t and I can see that tunnel vision again, the same tunnel vision that let her turn around and walk away without looking back at mount weather, and I lose it. Before I know it we are, screaming at each other, bellowing across the hall and Heda as always gets the last word. She declares “Pike as good as dead.” Throwing my hands up I storm out, slamming the door behind me and almost crash in to Titus, who stand by the door, obviously having been listening in, the snake. Throwing him my most cutting look, I shove by him and rise to my room and fume. I thought she had changed but she is still the same stubborn grounder who insists on killing anyone who is a threat to her. Everyone except me.

That night I don’t sleep well, part of me is angry at Lexa, but a bigger part of me is angry at myself for hesitating. I wake up early too early and can’t get back to sleep. Pike could put everything in danger, he already has Bellamy eating out of the palm of his hand… how long before he calls for a vote? The man hates grounders, he refuses to consider Skaikru part of the 13th clan… it would be war. Maybe Lexa is right. He should be eliminated… but if he is… could that cause a war?

I can’t think anymore, I can’t sleep and I’m overwhelmed with a sudden need to get OUT, to go into the open air, and _breathe_. Its market day and so early that it will be almost empty. The vendors will just be setting up, setting out there wares, the cooks lighting the coals for their street food, I want to go and the image is enough to get me out of bed, anything to escape the stress. Bathing quickly and throwing on my clothes I stride to Lexa’s room and let myself in as I always do. The guards don’t even try to stop me, they are so used to the comings and goings between our rooms, and they don’t even bat an eye anymore. When I fling open the door I’m surprised to find Lexa, as always in candle light, awake and reading a book in her bed, under the furs. The second I burst in she is in battle mode, her hand slips as quick as a flash under her pillow, pulling out a long blade before she spins from the bed, battle stance ready, her hair loose and wildly curly, her face, bare of makeup and paint, and thoroughly confused.

I would be amused, if I wasn’t so tense, but I can’t even raise a smile at the wide eyed brunette. Instead I say gruffly “Get up.”

 

                                                                        *******

 

When I step outside to let her dress… I cannot stop thinking of just how stunning she looked. That robe showed more of her golden skin than I’ve ever seen before, more of those tattoos that I have never seen before and it just adds fuel to the recently acknowledged fire… the fire being that I’m attracted to her, The Commander, Heda, Lexa. I am really attracted to her, and it’s not good.

You would have to be blind not to notice that Lexa is an uncommonly beautiful woman, but there is another thing about appreciating beauty and another to actively lust for someone. I reject it, of course I do, it’s totally inappropriate and the last thing I need is to develop feelings for her, but here I am, pink in the face, and unable to get that long smooth thigh, and wondering how it feels, out of my head.

Lexa pulls open the door just as that thought runs through my mind and I am so guilty I feel myself flush in a second. Lexa, ever observant notices, and it doesn’t help these non-friendly feelings when Lexa herself starts to blush. She shrugs it off and slips seamlessly into Heda mode, she steps from the room and hands me a shawl and I have to stop myself from once again, letting my eyes wander. Which is hard, because her hair is loose and very curly, her eyes are lined and shaded and she wears a pair of black jeans, and a soft flowing grey top that hugs her figure without being skin tight. We are obviously going incognito as Lexa pulls on for the first time, a short black jacket, in the place of her long Heda coat and covers her hair with a black shawl, and offers me a little smile before leading the way down the hall.  

 

******

 

 

The market is bustling, people jostle and shout, children laugh, people trade and sell their wares. The atmosphere is electric, it’s so interesting to see the grounders in their element, and Lexa among her people not as Heda… but as one of them. We walk past stall after stall until with a happy exclamation Lexa stops and ducks into the tent, I follow and realise we are in the stall of a paint vendor. Lexa pulls back her shawl and gives the man a subtle nod, the vendor dips his head in submission but looks comfortable enough for Clarke to guess that this is a regular occurrence, as they slip into what can only be described as Trigedasleng banter. There is so much colour in here, so many different paints and materials, I realise this must be where Lexa procures the items she sends me. Curious I turn to see her pour out a little black paint onto her hand and rubs it between forefinger and thumb before nodding and saying in quiet Trigedasleng, lowering her voice in an effort to go unheard. “Excellent quality. I will take two bottles, and tell me… to you have any more of those pigmented paints or pastels that I chose last month? The man nods and Lexa continues “I shall take those too… have them sent to the palace, along with your finest charcoals.” I turn away, pretending to not have heard as Lexa places a heavy bag on the counter, the man takes it and bows before she turns to me and asks her voice return to its normal volume “Are you getting anything Clarke?”

I struggle to respond because I’m digesting the fact that Lexa personally came here and chose the chalks I love so much. I am not sure how to feel about it…that Lexa picked out everything, personally chose the only things that give me any sort release, the only thing that brings me happiness… I feel weird about it. It makes my stomach flip because is seriously thoughtful, it’s also really… sweet. And I really don’t know how to feel about that.

Getting a hold on myself, on the swooping feelings in my body I smile to the vendor and then to Lexa before saying “No, I’d like to walk around a little.” Lexa nods replaces her shawl and slips out of the tent, again examining the paint between her thumb and forefinger muttering to herself “excellent”.

She looks so happy and my heart squeezes, I think I make a noise or something because a second later puzzled green eyes look up into mine, and it’s like I can’t breathe. I move past Lexa ignoring her obvious confusion and beckon her to follow my through the crowd, while I fight to understand just what the hell is wrong with me. I don’t want to let myself slip further down this slippery slope, not again, I’m already losing my footing and the fact that Lexa would personally choose my paints,, the best quality materials (the man’s products are expensive, very expensive, but incredible quality.. the best in Polis.)Is just so frickking thoughtful and sweet that I feel myself slip more down into that pit that I know holds no good for me.

I’m thinking this over when I get distracted by cheering and then a low booming that’s not completely drowned out. Pushing my way through to the centre of the crowd and I am pulled towards it immediately, I turn to Lexa and call to her to follow, seeing her eyes light up when she sees where we are going and finally we stop to stand within a large semicircle that surrounds a group of performers.

One is playing a low beat on the drum, another plays a long stringed instrument while another warbles in the background, his voice low and true, he doesn’t sing words but the emotion in his voice is unmistakable, and when he reaches the height of his build up, I am caught by surprise as a young man leaps into the circle and begins to move, fluidly with the music. All around me people begin to clap and shout, the music picks up its pace and so does the dancer, the ambience is addictive, and the music so beautiful, it brings tears to my eyes. It occurs to me that I haven’t heart music since the summit, and the last time before that, I can’t even remember and I missed it more than I realised. When I think about it, in the arc there was always music to listen to, the low melody that always seemed to play in the background, old recordings from before the war that were played at dances, even our rooms were equipped with a built in music player, but I’ve never heard music like this. This is something else entirely.

I sigh a happy sigh and Lexa looks at me, she smiles in her slight way, her green eyes lighting up and asks “Are you enjoying the performance, Clarke?”

I love it, I love it so much, I turn to her and smile, catching her exhaling a deep breath as I do and speak, wiping a single tear from my eye “Yeah… its… it’s incredible! I’ve never heard anything like it, and then dancing… they’re amazing. I missed music... It’s been so long… I kinda forgot it existed.”

Lexa stares into my blue eyes, she processes my words before carefully asking her question. “You didn’t have music in the sky?”

It’s irritatingly endearing but I tell myself not to laugh, that Lexa couldn’t possibly know what it was like for us, in the Ark… she probably can’t even imagine, so I hold back and answer honestly, eyes on the performers before me “Music? Yes… we had some on the Ark… but not like this… not instruments but recordings of music from the past…music from before the end. I enjoyed it and then we landed and there was some stuff in the Ark… Raven hooked something up but then, when I was alone, there was nothing. I hadn’t heard music until the night of the summit… when the woman sang. She was incredible. When I say I forgot it existed I mean that I had forgotten music is about _feeling_ , that it can make you feel things. And this beat, it makes me happy… I forgot stuff could do that, that something as simple as a song can change how I feel. I don’t really feel happy anymore, but this song… I guess it reminds me a little. Maybe I don’t deserve it… but it’s nice to remember, even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

I hate myself for it, for the honesty, for the tears that now well up in my eyes. I hate myself for breaking the enjoyment of it, for acknowledging that it brings me joy, because now I can’t get any from it. I turn away to go back to the palace, but Lexa reaches out and grabs me, stopping me from leaving, she looks into my eyes, into me, and speaks with such conviction that for a second I believe her “You deserve happiness, Clarke. We will leave when the performance is finished.”

 

I could pull away, and defy her, I could ignore her, but I don’t. Instead I nod, and turn to the performers, and watch. I listen and even though it is not the same as before, I still am touched by it, part of me still enjoys it, but it’s bittersweet. Lexa stands tall, silent, she watches them until they finish and when she does she lowers her shawl, the crowd parts for her and pulls a dagger from her leg, summoning the dancer who bowls lowly and mutters thanks as she presses it upon him, praising them in Trigedasleng and allowing the people to touch her as she passes. When she joins me again, she looks preoccupied, but content, smiling gently at me before speaking “We should be getting back, it is late and I have things I must see to, and the sun is setting.”

 

******

 

That night I go to bed and think about what Lexa said. One simple sentence, weighted with Lexa’s unshakable belief rocks me to my core. Do I deserve to be happy? After everything I’ve done? In Polis, I am the closest to happiness that I’ve been since I first arrived on the ground… but that poses another question. Why is I that I feel so comfortable here but the very thought… the very idea of returning to my own people terrifies me? Lexa and I have become solid friends I guess, she is a pretty big reason why I like is so much here, I cant really deny anymore the feelings I have for the grounder, but that aside  know Lexa isn’t the only reason I like it here.

 Even at home, I don’t belong there anymore, I don’t fit in, and I’ve seen too much and done too little. Though I was technically a leader to my people at the Ark… or Arkadia now, people pretty much hate me. Jasper wants me dead, Raven turned her back on me long ago… and with Octavia and Bellamy, nothing is ever enough. In Polis, though I have responsibilities as Wanheda, as ambassador, I am still freer, I am less pinned down by the constant complaints and requests, less chipped away by my inevitable failures in my people’s eyes.

In Polis I feel liberated… I had no idea how the weight of my peoples expectation was buckling me, how their constant reprisals crippled me. Lexa builds me up, she elevates me… she makes me feel special.  That being said I know Polis is not home… if all goes to shit…I’ll have to go back to the ark, and Lexa and I will have to turn on each other. Even though I have feelings again, for Lexa, I know from first-hand experience that love has no place in war. Besides, my feelings are unwelcome, because beyond friendship, which is already a stretch, I’m not ready for anything else… I never want to be. I don’t think I could do it, to myself, to my people. I don’t think I can allow myself to love the woman who betrayed us, turned her back on us and left us to die... They would never forgive me.

But I just can’t seem to help myself.

 

******

 

The next morning I take off for the day, trying to clear my head and make sense of the mess of feelings that are driving me crazy. I go to the riverside, and draw, returning in the early evening unfortunately missing the evening meal and almost collide with Lexa who is leaving my room. My eyebrows raise as she exits. I had assumed her to be occupied with clan business today but she is dressed casually, dressed in a burgundy sleeveless top and a pair of tight black pants, she doesn’t wear her Heda mark, though her hair is braided. She looks startled to see me, and for a second pauses as she steps out, pulling the door to my bedroom shut behind her.

My gaze flickers between her and the door, _my_ door that Heda is effectively blocking. This is weird enough but stranger is the nervous energy that seems to come off her. Lexa stands regally with her hands behind her back, her chin held high and her face impassive. But I know Lexa well enough now, to know that if you know how to read them, her eyes will tell you everything. I stare at her, narrowing my eyes, looking into the green pools that contain nervousness and what I mainly identify as poorly contained excitement, uncharacteristically fidgety as she moves her weight from one foot to the other.

Curious but wary, I remain guarded, asking “Where have you been all day? And why were you in my room?” Lexa hesitates a moment and I can actually see her try to stifle a slight smile as she tries, but fails to remain aloof, responding“ I was going to ask you the same question, Clarke. I did not see you at the evening meal. And… I was in your room….because I have arranged something for you.”

My eyebrows raise in question, Lexa’s expression becomes even more excited as she leans to my door, maintaining eye contact before turning the handle and pushing it open, gesturing for me to enter. Pausing a moment, I stop to think… because this is not a side to Lexa I have seen before… coy, mysterious and quite openly excited as she waits for me to enter. Huffing out a frustrated breath I make my way through the opened door, followed closely by Lexa and stand still as my brow clouds in confusion at the fact that in my few hours’ absence, my room has drastically been altered.

Funnily enough first thing to catch my eye is the armchair and sofa that have been moved, both have been pushed far back against the walls, and in their place, sits a blonde haired woman I vaguely recognise, surrounded by various instruments. I have no idea what’s going on and I turn to Lexa in confusion, the leader smiled wider than I’ve ever seen, I notice that there is an adorable crease between her upper lip and nose as she beams, her cheeks pop, and her eyes glow, the slight dimple on her bottom lip stretches and even though it’s a close lipped smile… its radiant. My eyes focus on that crease before they bounce back up to excited green eyes, a lightly smug smile takes place and her expression shows enjoyment my confusion, she raises an eyebrow and speaks, , she sounds amused but also slightly tense “At the Market the other day you expressed admiration for the singer from the summit, Tiyalah’s, singing. You also expressed missing music, so I thought, if you aren’t too tired… that you might enjoy a performance. However, you have been out all day… if you are fatigued you need just say the word…” Lexa cuts off, looking slightly unsure, her body tense as if uncertain of what reaction she will get for implanting a singer in my bedroom

Words fail me, I look to the blonde singer, recognition suddenly clicking. I see her surrounded by instruments, before turning back to Lexa who waits patiently for a response. Slightly overwhelmed but totally thrilled I struggle to express myself “Lexa, I… this is… this is great.”

Her reaction is not totally expected… Lexa’s eyes light up, those pink lips part in a second revealing a huge set of bright shining teeth, a subtle dimple and that newly discovered crease, and it nearly floors me. Lexa’s smile is HUGE, its radiant and gone all to quickly as she seems to gather herself, clearing her throat and directing her attention to the singer,  her previous uncertainty replaced by a childlike enthusiasm. Lexa strides ahead of me to a small table that I didn’t notice before and gestures to the items on it “I asked the kitchen if you had eaten, they said you had not so I assumed you would be hungry. I took the liberty of sending for some refreshments, if you need anything else, the maid is beyond the door, Clarke.” My eyes fall to a large flagon filled with a thick and sweet wine, then to the tray of fruits whose smell makes my mouth water, and then to the spiced nuts and some bread. I hadn’t realised but I’m hungry… really hungry. Then finally I notice set on the table beside the flagon is a glass. One glass.

Comprehension dawns on me as Lexa turns to give the singer a satisfied nod and begins to move backwards towards the door as she speaks “When you are finished, just ask her to take her leave. I will see you in the morning, Clarke… goodnight.”

It’s just so much… so thoughtful... she is obviously so excited and I feel my stomach flip and turn, with something that could feel like butterflies… but it’s been so long I can’t really remember. When I speak, it’s without thinking, the words leave me before I have had a chance to think them over and when they do that sounds a little too desperate for my liking "You aren’t staying?”

Lexa pauses on her way out, she turns to look at me, cautious, surprise in her eyes and an uncharacteristic hesitance in the way she holds herself.  She pauses a moment before she speaks, weighing up each word carefully “I had not planned to, Clarke…  I would never presume you would wish to share such a thing with me. I had simply thought you might enjoy it, alone.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, but I know I don’t want her to leave… though I am scared to admit why sounding flustered to my own ears, I ask a fairly redundant question “ Do you like music?

 Lexa looks confused for a moment, a slight crease forming between those green eyes. She doesn’t answer, so I ask again, firmer this time “Well…do you?”

Her face goes back to its impassive mask but I can see the internal battle that wages before she speaks, softly “Of course.”

“Then stay.” Lexa doesn’t reply and I just know I don’t want her to go. I am overwhelmed with the gesture, I want her to stay, to share this amazing gift with me. Trying to hide how suddenly emotional I feel, slip into my cocky persona and reach for the empty glass and fill it. I then walk to Lexa who stands uncertainly beside the door, and hand it to her before striding back to the sofa, sinking down to it with a satisfied sigh and looking at the dumbstruck Commander before throwing out a cheeky “ Well… We will need another glass, Heda unless you’re planning to drink all the wine yourself.”

 

Lexa blinks at the glass in her hand, then she looks up at me and looks thoroughly indecisive, but my cheeky tone provokes her, just as I knew it would. It has diffused the current of tension that jumped between us and Lexa looks once more to glass in her hand before nodding once and speaking “Alright Clarke, I shall stay.”

 Then she turns to the door, and mutters something to the maid beyond before turning to the singer and her voice Heda’s and says “Prepare.” The singer pulls out her instrument and begins twisting the strings, plucking each one occasionally before adjusting again. Lexa keeps her position by the door, her wineglass in hand before a slight knock sounds from it and she moves to open it, accepting a glass from the maid, who closes the door behind her. Lexa then walks towards me, placing her glass on the low table, lifting the flagon, filling the other glass and handing it to me, I accept it with a muttered thanks and Lexa picks up her glass, she stares into the contents for a moment, hesitant before seeming to come to a decision and raising the glass to her lips.

A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips watching her lengthy internal debate, she is just too easy to poke fun at sometimes “Not much of a drinker?”

Lexa looks down at me narrowing her eyes slightly “I could be, I do enjoy wine though I do not drink much of it, or often… it is unwise for a Heda to indulge oneself in such a way, Clarke. There are expectations to uphold, consequences to ones actions that can extend far beyond mere morning sickness, and this is strong wine, delicious but powerful, so I do not make a habit of it.”

The woman is so serious all the time, and I think Lexa actually catches how pugnacious she sounds for a second because she blinks twice before taking large slug of wine, probably in defiance of my teasing stare. It makes me laugh and Lexa sighs trying to remain dignified but failing miserably and asks “Are you ready to begin Clarke?”

 I smirk “Whenever you are Heda.”

She barely contains an eye roll at the sarcastic use of her title and calls to the singer “Begin.”

The singer settles herself on my carpet, reaching forward and pulling a curious metal dome towards her, it’s an odd looking thing, with flattened hexagonal plates throughout the dome convex part of the dome. Tiyalah, the singer takes a deep breath before she begins to tap out a melodic and hypnotic rhythm on the dome. Its flattened plates making a different sound, giving a huge range for one drum. Then her voice cuts into the melody in Trigedasleng, husky and strong, and though I don’t understand everything, I am absorbed by the sound.

I get lost in the melody for a while before my attention is drawn by a sigh, exhaled by the Commander who continues to stand beside the couch, eyes wide, attention rapt on the singer. Lexa raises the glass to her lips, swallowing deeply before pulling her hand down, her lips are stained crimson a the crease from the wine, and I see her tongue dart out to lick them. Though the music still holds me, my attention is focused on the woman before me, the way her lashes flutter and her green eyes widen as the singer comes to her chorus, her strong voice hitting haunting notes, all the while her hand never cease the steady beat on her drum. We have been listening for at least fifteen minutes and still Lexa hovers beside the table and it occurs to me, that just maybe she is afraid to sit beside me. I don’t know why but I find it scary and endearing at the same time, I could tease her, as I do usually but something tells me to hold back, that Lexa here… is vulnerable, so I decide not to draw much attention to it. I think for a minute and instead focus back on the singer, I keep my eyes on Tiyalah who sways with the rhythm of her song, lost in the beat of her drum and then, as if it is no big deal I speak to Lexa, but don’t look at her “Lexa, are you gonna stand there all night or are you gonna sit on the couch that is directly behind you?”

I pretend I don’t see her jump a little, that I don’t catch her gather herself from being so in-depth from the music, I pretend I don’t see the unsure gaze that flits down to the couch before she puts on her game face, turning to sit, muttering a haughty yet amused “I was very will standing, Clarke… but if you insist, I shall sit.”

 

Before she does I catch her, I can’t help it, and it’s just too easy to tease her when she is like this, so unsure of herself, so different from Heda. Smiling up at her I hold out my empty glass and say, “While you’re up, I think we could both use a top up” Lexa looks confused, glancing between me and my extended hand with the glass before she realises what I mean. She regards me with a level gaze, and for a second I panic, thinking  I have pushed her, Heda too far… the smile slides from my face and suddenly Lexa’s own grin appears from nowhere as she plucks the cup from my hand fills it and her own, before walking back and falling unceremoniously on the couch, cups in hand. Lexa stares at me, and my skin prickles, as she takes a deep sip of her wine, and says “I wouldn’t get used to that ambassador, don’t forget who it is you speak to” Her words are cold, but her voice is not, and I smile accepting the glass, unable to hide my laughter as I say ”Sha,Heda, Mochof.”

Lexa smiles again slightly and settles in, attention back to the woman who sings, who changes her instrument, and begins a new song. I’m not sure how long we sit in silence, listening to the enthralling voice of Tiylah but I know I’m becoming fuzzy, I know an entire flagon of wine has been consumed and another brought. I know that Lexa stretches out on the black sofa, very unpoised and unHedalike as she pops spiced nut after spiced nut into her mouth while she stares wide eyed at the singer.

When Tiyalah starts up a plucky rhythm and a low wailing that I just feel like I _have_ to dance. It’s been years, and here I am listening to this incredible singer and it feels like the beats feels like it’s _in_ me, in my blood as it pumps. I don’t let myself overthink, I just go with it, and stand up, swaying a little as I take another swig of that delicious wine and move to the middle of the floor. I close my eyes and listen a second before letting the beat take me, and definitely tipsy, I don’t even care that Lexa is watching me as I begin to move. I want to dance, I feel like I have to, because I might never have the chance again… so I’m going to dance, everyone else be damned. I’m swaying when Lexa cuts into my daydream, her voice low “What are you doing?

My eyes open, and I turn to look at the woman who looks much younger than she usually does, staring at me wide eyed from her slumped position on the sofa. There isn’t much to say, I don’t plan on stopping and I let my eyes close again as I keep up moving and shrug, the movement not being as sharp as I’d like, the alcohol making my body loose, before stating as if it’s obvious “Dancing.”

Oh.” Lexa’s response is so short and so unlike her it causes my eyes to open and for me to begin to laugh at the slack jawed Commander, spiced nut in hand and an enthralled but still totally confused look on her face.

I can’t help it, once I start I can’t stop, I’m laughing until my sides hurt and it feels so good to laugh, to _really laugh_ after all this time. The singer plays on oblivious, and finally, wiping tears from my eyes I look up to see Lexa looking at me, that full, massive smile on her face and I want her to join me, to feel as good as I do. The words come out bossier than I expect, as I move a little closer “Come dance.”

Lexa blinks once, twice before swallowing, her words heavy as her eyes flit to the singer and back to me. “I cannot, Clarke.”

I sway, more amused than ever, “Come on, sure you can.”

“No… I cannot.” She looks nervous abashed, as if she doesn’t know what to say.

Teasing Lexa has always been too easy, but I’m drunk and a little annoyed she won’t just let loose for once, when I can see how badly she wants to. When I speak I’m sarcastic, my speech a little less distinct than it should be as I trill “Why? What… oh mighty Heda cannot dance, it’s against grounder rules? All fun is evil… dancing is weakness?”

Lexa raises an eyebrow at my sarcastic tone and Heda takes over, her face inexpressive and her voice “Well Clarke, technically you are right. As a Niteblida…such things were not permitted, and as Heda dancing is hardly a priority.” How words are dry but I can see she’s bothered.

I stop dancing and openly stare at the Heda, who avoids my gaze as she plays with the nut in her hand. “Not permitted? You mean you really weren’t allowed to dance? Everyone dances Lexa.”

Lexa looks up and sighs before rolled her eyes at my obtuseness. “No it was not permitted and your statement is untrue, Clarke. I do not dance and I am sure there are others who do not either.”

I scrunch my brow, confused and try to express my surprise as I ask “Why is it not permitted? So you have never danced… not ever?

Lexa sighs again, evidently becoming frustrated with the conversation, but she answers “No never. Why is simple…As a Niteblida we are discouraged from any sort of frivolous activity that is neither linked to training or pursuit of study.”

I absorb that before taking a step towards her “And as Heda?”

Lexa stands from the sofa and places her glass on the table, not looking to me at she talks “It is not forbidden, as I have said, dancing is not high on my list of things I must do. I haven’t had the occasion to do it, do not see the reason for me to begin.”

“It’s fun.” The words rush out, firm and fast and Lexa blinks speechless as I smile and continue pushing her, not letting her off the hook yet ”Come on...you have to try it! At least once."

Lexa’s eyes narrow, and she pauses a moment, thinking about my words before I see her close herself off, shut herself away, speaking in Heda’s voice as she moves “I disagree… there are plenty of things I have not tried and have no desire to do so, I don’t feel I am missing out on anything. I should be going… goodnight, Clarke.”

Lexa makes her way to the door, passing me as she does, and before I realise what’s happening I reach out and pull the Commander to stand in front of me. I lift her hand while she looks at me with a scrunched brow, confusion written all over her face and I twirl underneath it. Not really willing to drop her hand yet, I hold her and shrug, flashing her a cocky smile and saying “There you go… you just danced with me. Congratulations. The worst is done… you might as well continue.”

Lexa stands frozen, transfixed, her entire body ridged, she glances between me and the singer, and then down to our joined hands. I can feel the nerves radiating off her, her hand twitches against my palm and I can see the internal war that wages between Heda and Lexa. I no longer tease, instead I tug lightly and almost plead “Come on, Lexa it’s easy… just move.”

Smiling encouragingly, I tune back into the music and begin to move, just a little, a slight sway that isn’t too pronounced, or too fast. I am determined not to freak her out, but as soon as I begin to move that eyes widen, she moves her bottom jaw subtly from side to side. Staring into those green eyes I swear they become darker before she blinks once, hard. I see Heda take over and then she pulls her hand from mine.

When she speaks it is in the voice of the Commander, still soft, but as hard as steel “It wouldn’t be appropriate. I remind you we are not alone, it would be unfitting for a subject to see her Heda engaging in such activities.” Lexa turns from me, and I  throw a glance to Tiyalah, who sits some distance away from us oblivious, her music covers our words and she sits, eyes closed, lost in her work.

I see it for what it is. An excuse. Stepping into Lexa’s space I speak firmly, she doesn’t move back, but stands firm, her gaze blazing into mine, nostrils flaring as I speak “Lexa the woman is  professional and besides.. She would never dare cross, Heda. Just for a minute Lexa, stay and dance with me… at least you can say you have done it once, and I’ll be happy to have shown you ONE fun thing.”

This seems to catch the leader’s interest. Something flashes in those green eyes, as fast as a fish through water though her face remains impassive for almost a minute until finally she speaks softly, “You’ll be happy, Clarke?” My stomach squeezes and I realise how close we are… how very close, I see Lexa’s gaze drop to my lips, and mine drop to hers too… for a second I think we will kiss, for a second I _want_ us to kiss but then Lexa pulls back, and my heart plummets thinking she is leaving. But she doesn’t go to the door, instead Lexa strides to the singer. The music stops but I cannot make out what Lexa says in stern rapid Triegedasleng. I watch them talk for a moment before the singer nods, turning lightly away from them and picking up another instrument, before beginning another song.

Lexa walks back… looking more uncertain than ever, and a smile breaks out on my face as she stands before me, her lips in a firm pink pout and mutters “Very well Clarke, what would you have me do?”

 

******

 

Lexa

 

How she Lexa, Heda of the thirteen clans ended up here is a mystery. It is late, very late… Lexa is drunk and has somehow managed to be convinced to dance, for the first time in her life by a blonde that has fallen from the sky.

 

Here I am, standing before a smiling Clarke, who smiles wider than I have seen her do so, maybe ever. Her eyes glitter, and her body moves in a slow steady swing that I have a difficult time tearing my gaze from… because it is not appropriate. I have long accepted the fact that my actions at the Mountain would cost me Clarke, would cost me the woman I came to care for… deeply.

Even now… I know perhaps, though I try to quell them…that unwelcome feelings possibly linger. My actions speak plainly, though my heart does not. The moment Clarke mentioned missing music was the moment I vowed to bring it to her, it was the moment that I set about hunting down Polis’ most celebrated singer, it was the moment I set a plan in place and the moment I let myself be excited for something, for someone, and to push Heda away. I arrange this simply to please her, to possibly allow her some respite from her inner demons, there are no ulterior motives, and no futile hopes that I could ever, or even would ever, court Clarke. The food and wine… that was an afterthought, I pass the kitchens on my way up and ask if she has eaten, she has not so I have food and wine brought, it is not a thought out process.  I never thought of another meaning to my actions, not until I am standing in the room, containing my excitement, observing Tiyalah before me. Smiling slightly I survey my handiwork waiting impatiently for Clarkes return and suddenly I see the situation from an outsiders view, how it could seem, how Titus would see such an action… and I suddenly doubt myself and my intentions… conscious or not.

That is until I see her. I am leaving the room to summon the maids to clear it out and to distract Clarke while everything is rectified and he singer dismissed, but instead I come face to face with the Skaiprisa herself. Any doubts I had slip away the second I look into those blue eyes, my excitement blooms again, and I know… she will enjoy this.  
  
When she asks me to stay and watch, am first surprised, for I had not planned on joining her but I am also delighted, not only because Tiyalah is an exceptional performer, but because I want to, I want to spend time with her. However Heda tells me I shouldn’t because I realise that my feelings for the girl go far deeper than friendship and I do not want to show my hand, I do not want to push her away. But I cannot refuse her, I cannot refuse her anything and so I stay.

And here I am… standing drunk… too drunk before an equally intoxicated blonde who insists I dance with her… and I am going to do it. Of course it is inappropriate, of course Heda should not bow to such a will but I cannot will myself to be her tonight, not when Clarke is looking at me like this, and not when I want to… I want to dance with her. Secretly I have always admired it, I enjoy the performances and have always been intrigued, here I am it might be the only chance I get and so I ask her, trying to swallow my nerves “what would you have me do?’

Clarkes eyes crinkle when she smiles, and I try not to stare too hard as they do, “Just move.”

 

“How?” The question sounds stupid to my own ears… I am a skilled fighter, fast, lethal, graceful, swaying should not seem like such a task but I find I am frozen to the spot, unable to relax my muscles enough, unable to shake off the nagging feeling that I am engaging in something dangerous, that I am letting myself slip, though into what… I do not yet know.

The beat gets faster, and I can feel it tugging at me, willing to let me go with it, but on the other side I feel Heda pulling me back, anchoring me, screaming at me to live up to my title.  I am about to turn and leave when Clarkes hand snakes out again and grabs my hand, and the second she does the screaming stops. Heda slips away and it is just Clarke and I, me… Lexa, not Heda… not the Commander. The Skaigirl begins to move again gently tugging on my hand as she does so, despite my nerves I move a little, before stopping, glancing up to those blue eyes that are now alight with excitement. Clarke tugs again and I attempt a subtle movement of the hips, the same as hers, but with less sway. It is not in time to the music, but I am beginning to catch the beat. Clarke is enthused, beaming, she takes my other hand and begins to move faster, with less restraint. I stare at her hips, knowing I shall be unable to replicate the movements yet and so I strange my strategy. I glance down to her feet and study each step she takes, it follows a pattern and I feel the familiar fight training kick in, memorising the steps as I would with swordplay, and then reproducing them flawlessly. The more I move, the less tense I feel, the easier it becomes and I apply myself to it with vigour. All proceeds well for several minutes, Clarke bursts out a pleased “Lexa, that’s great keep going!” I smile a little at the pride in her voice, but shall not allow myself to become distracted. Acknowledging her praise with a slight nod, I remain thoroughly concentrated until she places a soft hand on my waist and speaks, suddenly very close “Now you have the feet down, try to move your hips.”

Perhaps it is the alcohol, perhaps it is because this new liberty has my mind scrambled but Clarkes words cause me to flush with heat. Pushing it away I attempt her instructions, until Clarke lets out a pleased sound, dancing with me, drifting even closer, too close, I glance up and see her eyes are closed as she moves to the beat. It is obvious that the girl is oblivious to the effect she has on me, she pulls at my hand as she moves, lost in the music, and it takes all I have not to lean forward and press my lips against that slight smile of sheer contentment. Not trusting my resolve and I detach our hands feigning thirst. Clarke opens her eyes at the loss of contact, but as I mutter “Drink.” She nods and smiles none the wiser before continuing her torturous moves. Striding to the table I seize my almost full glass, desperate to douse this sudden burning for the blonde girl that now dances alone, hand swirling about her in a smooth, rhythmic motion. Unable to tear my gaze away from how exquisite she is I down my entire glass in one. I pull my eyes from her and take a deep breath, calming my heart and rushing black blood, before returning to her side to recommence our festivities once more.

 

We dance like this for a while, apart. I dare not take her hand again, for I am not fully in control of my actions. Clarke is dancing freely and I try not to look at her as she does so, I try to lose myself in my own rhythm, I try to burn some of this thrumming energy that has me more on edge than the prospect of imminent battle. I cannot deny that I am enjoying myself, or how good it feels to release myself from duty life this. Dancing itself is a pleasing physical action, it feels like after a fight while adrenaline pumps, it is so similar to the euphoric feeling but without the physical strain that comes with battling. Clarke moves to the table and refills our glasses with yet more wine, bringing mine to me and passing it to me with a smile, perhaps it is unwise to drink too much, to let my inhibitions slip away but there is something singular about this night. I know it shall likely never happen again, so I ignore my common sense, raising the glass to my lips and with every sip, I become fonder of this dancing.

And hour later the second flagon is now empty. Both of us are well beyond the beginning state of inebriation, and are lost dancing to a particularly fast song, red faced, sweating, and above all… smiling. I am drunker than I have ever been, but I cannot find the strength to care as my body moves of its own accord and I let it, because I feel the music within me, rushing through my veins fighting for release. Difficult as it is and as drunk as I am I do try to keep my gaze from Clarke who moves so fluidly, sometimes so sensually that it makes me think as I should not, as I cannot. It brings things to mind that I had thought long dead within me, things I have not felt in years. I have wanted Clarke for a long time, from before the Mountain. The woman peaked my interest, she drew me to her, for her mind, for her beauty, for her strength, when I kissed her it was because I longed to, but it is far different from what I feel in this moment. I do not long for Clarke here, I burn for her… for that body that moves and sways. My thoughts are far from pure and in my less than controlled state I am afraid I shall act on these impulses, act on the desire to place my hands on those rolling hips and pull her close. That I shall act on the need to wipe her the sweat from her brow and to kiss that glistening neck, tasting the salt upon my tongue.

Knowing I shall no longer be able to resist I stop our movements and remark that the candles burn low. I know I have taxed the singer long enough, clapping my hands while swaying on the spot, Tiyalah stops, exhaling a grateful sigh. Clarke smiles and praises the singer, thanking her graciously though her speech is slightly impaired before staggering to the couch. I nod to the singer who gathers her things, “Tiyalah you can leave. You sang well… but remember what I said, a word of this to anyone and I shall have your tongue. It would be a great shame to lose such a voice.”

The singer nods and takes her leave, leaving me with Clarke who now half lies cross the sofa, I assume I am in a better state until suddenly my legs won’t work anymore, they do not obey me as I try to make my way to the table to claim a spiced nut, knocking over the tray in the process. Clarke laughs and I look to her wide eyed in confusion, trying to figure out how the tray could have been so close… but yet so far from where I thought it was. Reality starts to trickle into my foggy mind, I know I am drunker than I have ever been, drunker than I should be. Even drunk, I can picture Titus’ and when I speak my voice is not my own “I should go. Titus… Titus will be coming for me shoon. He cannot see me like this.”

Soon, comes out as shoon the first three times I try to say it and I am horrified... Absolutely horrified that my speech is so tainted. The blonde is oblivious to my discomposure and I decide to take my leave, muttering “Goodnight, Clarke” I turn to leave, but as I do so my foot catches a turned up corner of the carpet, and I pitch forward, sprawling face first onto the floor, serenaded by the hysterical cackles of Clarke behind me. My pride wounded I roll onto my back and scowl at her, trying to summon the strength and coordination to stand as I speak “You may laugh but tell me, how am I supposed to make it back to my room in this state? The servants shouldn’t see me like this. I am Heda… it is absolutely unacceptable.”

Clarkes laughing calms to light chuckles as she speaks “Calm down, Commander.” She lifts herself from the couch, wobbling as she stand over me, hand outstretched to help me up. She still smirks at me but hr tone is gentle “Stay here. Sleep it off a little and leave in an hour or so… no one will know then, you can make it back to your own room and it’ll be fine.”

 

I take the proffered hand and she hauls me up, catching me as I almost overbalance and I speak, my brow furrowed in confusion. “Stay here… with you?” The thought brings so many others to mind, and I cannot help but swallow the lump that lodges itself in my throat. If Clarke senses my discomposure she gives no sign, she shrugs a little as she say “Yeah. Makes sense. You can sleep the worse off and sneak out at dawn.” Giving me no chance to protest she half drags me, half uses me as a support until we reach her bed. She shoves me a little towards it as I gawp and she says “In, Lexa. I’m tired.” Before climbing in and rolling over to the other side. I look to the space beside the blonde who looks as if she is already sleeping. I stare for a second… unsure whether I should slip away until Clarke’s voice cuts into the fading candlelight. “Nmmm. Lexa. In. The. Bed. Now.” Swallowing my fear, finally the fatigue washes over me, I slip under the furs and hold my breath as she moves closer to me, not touching me, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiate from her. A second later, I dare to glance over and look at the lax, peaceful face, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she takes, already deeply asleep. I experience a brief moment of unadulterated happiness, I feel my lips part in a smile that stays upon my lips even as my own eyes grow heavy and the world fades away, taking me to another.

 

 

Clarke

 

The next morning when I wake up, my head is pounding, my mouth is dry as a desert and I am alone in bed. Disorientated, I stare at the rumpled, vacant side of the bed, my brow scrunched, trying to remember what happened last night. I’m on the side of the bed… which is weird… usually I sleep in the middle sprawled out, languishing in space I never had before Polis. Memories piece back together lowly, hazy and patchy, but I remember Lexa suddenly, looking up at her lithe form standing uncertainly by the bed. Rolling over, ignoring my bodies protest I inhale a heavy breath from the empty pillow, and it’s her, it’s her smell, something like is rosewater, but stronger. She was here after all, and slept beside me it seems.

 

My stomach flutters as flashes of the night before come back to me. Lexa’s surprise, her anxious and excited face… the incredible singing, the music… and the dancing. It all comes crashing back… Lexa _danced_ , with me. I have an image burned in my mind, of Lexa’s eyes closed, a slight smile on her face as she moves her body in a way I never thought her capable of, her hips undulate, her hands trace patters in front of her as she sways in time to the music… I remember being so surprised that Lexa could be so unintentionally… sensual. I’d never seen that side to her before. I have seen her vulnerable, unsure before she pressed her lips to mine; I have seen her fierce, strong as a leader in battle, I have seen her at peace, reading a book, I’ve seen her happy and proud playing with the Nightsblood. This though, this is a side to her that was completely new, and deeply moving. I remember wanting to kiss her, but I’m relieved to remember that I didn’t. I recall a very drunken Lexa, falling face first onto the floor, babbling about Titus, about appearances, and sounding so much like a guilty teenager that a smile rises to my cheeks, hungover as I am. I remember her looking at me, her green eyes wide and scared as I ordered her into bed, to sleep of course, but still… it’s something more, nothing can be completely innocent between us… Not after what happened between us, before.

Heaving a deep sigh I try to shake my thoughts and squinting my eyes against the light I realise the how high the sun is and that it must be about midday. Shit.

 

Heaving my body out of the warmth and comfort of bed I shuffle, groaning to the alcove that serves as a washroom. I pour the water into the large bowl and bathe, relief from my pounding headache coming with every swipe of the cloth. I brush my teeth and dress, dragging myself downstairs for the afternoon meal, drinking three full classes of juice that almost instantly do some good. I scan the wide room filled with people eating, laughing, before making my way to the high table, where Lexa is nowhere to be seen. Frowning slightly, I try to ignore the fact I’m disappointed that she is not here, I can usually rely on seeing her during mealtimes and since I woke up feel an overwhelming need to see her, to make sure everything is okay between us after last night. I don’t know why, but I’m nervous, and I will be until I speak to her.  After eating a maid summons me to a meeting with the Commander and the clan leaders and I finally get to see her. When I walk in Lexa greets me but looks away directly after, not holding my gaze as she usually does. She looks better than I feel, though she is pale and her eyes are a little glassy, she otherwise seems unaffected by the insane amount of wine we managed to consume last night. Grounders can drink. The meeting is dismissed and before I get a chance to talk to her, Titus requests to speak to her alone. I know when he glares at me that it has something to do with me, so I narrow my eyes at him straight back before heading back to my room and indulging in a long bath, letting the hot water soak away my aches and pains, letting it sooth the headache and my worries.

When the water gets cold I step out and dress in my nightclothes, deciding as I pull them on to go and see Lexa, because I can’t shake nervous the feeling I have all day, the feeling that somethings not right. Making my way to her room, I open the door and slip in uninvited as I usually do, same as I have done for months.  Candles are lit everywhere, and Lexa is sprawled out on her bed, fully clothed. As soon as the door clicks behind me Lexa’s head shoots up from the pillow, her eyes are bloodshot and fiery, and when she speaks to me it is in not the gentle, friendly tone I am used to.

“You should knock before entering, Clarke. I am not in the mood for company.” The grounder flops back down onto the pillows and closes her eyes, obviously expecting me to leave. No one else would dare question the Heda’s wishes but I am not intimidated, just confused and I decide that I’ll damned if I don’t find out what her problem is. “Since when do you care if I knock, Lexa? I haven’t for months… what is your problem?” Lexa lifts her head again before sitting up, wincing slightly as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed. She takes a deep breath before those green eyes flash up to meet mine, cold and hard, Heda’s gaze through and through. When she speaks it’s with Heda’s voice, firm and distant “I care from now, Clarke. I am Heda… it is unfitting that you take your leave to come and go to my chambers as you please.”

I am pissed, not used and not appreciating the way she speaks to me. I stare her down, taking in that simmering anger and the clenched jaw, but I don’t let it phase me. I ignore her statement and push her again “Lexa… what the hell is going on? Why are you being like this?”

Her anger flares and she takes a step towards me, her voice dropping low, dangerous as she practically hisses the words “Why am I _being_ like this??? I have been as sick as a dog all day because you somehow managed to convince me to drink an entire barrel of wine, Clarke!”

I scoff, because that answer is bullshit. There is more to this attitude than she wants to tell me. Narrowing my eyes as I speak I say “Hey, I didn’t force it down your neck.”

I can see the nerve jump in her jaw as she can no longer hold my stare, she breaks first turning away. “Titus may be right.”

So, Lexa’s temper has something to do with the bald asshole, and I am not surprised. I roll my eyes and throw my hands “Titus is right about what?”

“That you are a distraction from my duties.” The words come out, cold and distant. Lexa’s face doesn’t betray her, she is impassive, green eyes empty. Her attitude makes me nervous but I know that that is _still_ not the truth, that Lexa is still avoiding the issue.

I take a step closer to her, but she moves away and turns from me “Cut the crap. Is this about last night?”

Lexa paces from one place to another, her voice low but upset, not the controlled Heda’s “It is about everything Clarke! I drank more than I ever have, today I held several meetings with the clan leaders aching from morning sickness! I engaged in frivolous activity, paid off and threatened Polis most celebrated performer that I would cut out her tongue… that I might have to do, by the way!, I _danced_ , and woke up in a chamber that was not my own! I… I felt…I… yu nou ge em. … I…” Lexa pauses, she looks pained for a second before her nostrils flare, her eyes become a shade darker and suddenly she raises her hand to her temple and closes her eyes before she mutters her voice, soft, and low “I cannot do this now… just… just… bants, Clarke.” My blood runs cold, never, not in all my time here has Lexa, or Heda for that matter dismissed me.

I don’t move to the door, staying where I am saying nothing until her head whips up, those green flash eyes open and Lexa points towards the door and shouts “Get out, Clarke! Now. Bants!”

Never before has she shouted at me, never before has she spoken to me in such a way and I stand tall, I close myself off, swallowing the hurt and bend in a sarcastic bow, seeing her eyes widen as I do so and mutter “Very well, Heda.” I turn on my heel just before Lexa raises her hand, just before her mouth opens, and then closes and she says nothing at all. I storm from her room to my own, slamming the door behind me, pulling out my papers, grabbing the drawing I was working on. I stare down at the half finished drawing, _of her,_ Lexa…asleep. I laugh at how absolutely stupid I have been to think things have changed, and gritting my teeth I take the drawing and tear it to shreds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note: NSFW/Mature chapter.  
> Since the night after Clarke and Lexa danced, nothing has been the same. Lexa has put an end to their friendship, without much of an explanation and Clarke hurt and confused cant make sense of it. Lexa hates herself for pushing the girl away but is terrified to let her close. This culminates in an official request to leave Polis, a remorseful Lexa, and a very heated admission of feelings the night before Clarke's departure. 
> 
> Lexa:The last month has been a gruelling trial, harder than I expected it to be. It breaks my heart, yet as bad as things have become, perhaps I was naïve but I never imagined that it would result in Clarke prostate before me, officially requesting permission to leave Polis… to leave me.  
> Clarke: This is…unexpected. Lexa is in my bedroom baring her heart and soul, as much as she can… to me. Lexa is never afraid, not even of death yet here she is, standing in front of me, nervous but persistent and determined to say what she came to say.It’s almost too much to finally hear her admit it, to admit that Lexa feels for me, because it’s not like it can change anything, now, after everything. 
> 
> But then again...better late, than never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the second part. I'll be tweaking part 1 tomorrow and trying to get a better expression for Clarke, but this stuff is unbetad... so I guarantee no success.  
> Guys total heads up… this sex scene got out of hand and ran on for MANY MANY WORDS. I was having fun, but if its not your bag, then I've put a star beside where it begins and continues... for a long while. Ahem... don't judge me.
> 
> Anyways I hope you like it, at the end there is a rather fluffy bit at the very end( as fluffy as I can be ( Im an angsty Mofo.)
> 
> As always please feel free to let me know what you think, on here and Tumblr
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yetanothereireannach

 

Lexa

 

As soon as I raise my voice, I regret it, seeing the look of disbelief, and above all hurt cloud Clarkes face. She waits a moment before following my command, and I almost tell her to wait, not to go, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out, and Clarke sees nothing will, giving me a mutinous look before turning on her heel an storming from my room. And then I tell myself that it is done, and grit my teeth in grim acceptance, forcing myself to stay where I am though my heart screams at me to go after her, to explain…but explain what…?

 How can I explain the fact that I am at war with myself? How could I make her understand the cold and harsh truths Titus laid before me this afternoon in the great hall? Truths that I don’t want to accept, that I don’t want to believe… how can I explain the fact that he might be right? Titus voice haunts me, his stern tone one that has followed me for the greater part of my life rebuking me _“To be Heda is to be alone, Lexa. Clarke is distracting you from your duties, in all your 6 years as Heda, and your training as a Niteblida have you ever allowed yourself to get into such a state… Such an unfitting state. What if there had been an assassination attempt? A Heda is never safe; you would have been completely defenceless… and worse still you in your drunken stupor you left our people completely defenceless. Clarke is undermining your command, and has people questioning your alliance and the reasons behind it.”_ Not all he says is truth, I want Skaikru as part of the coalition for peace’s sake and nothing more… but one thing rings true and bitter in his sermon “You left our people defenceless”. It is irrefutable, had a war council been called, or an attack made I would have been in no fit state to handle it, and my people and army leaderless.

And so, even though the moment the words leave me, I want to take them back, but cannot. My people come first, and it is true that I let them down last night, and vow never to do it again. Recognising that Clarke is indeed one of my weaknesses is not easy… but I cannot be blind to the truth. The woman makes me feel things a Heda cannot feel, she brings me out of myself, the part of me that has no place being in power, the weaker part of me. I cannot be seen as weak, I cannot be weak… not again. So I let her go, I let her slam my door. And then I lower myself onto the bed and exhale a deep unsteady breath, and tell myself it was for the best.

 

*******

 

It is for the best because last night I faced things that I have been avoiding acknowledging for too long. I have always had lingering affection for Clarke despite her initial loathing of me, our volatile and tempestuous relationship. There has always being that underlying attraction, ever since Clarke dragged me from the clutches of the Pauna, refusing to leave me behind, saving my life despite my protests. I called her weak that day, but I was wrong. My gaze started to linger from the moment I sat in the forest, guarding her as she slept, watching as the sun glinted off golden hair. Studying the gentle slopes of her face, lax in sleep, that freckle above her top lip, and those impossibly blue eyes hidden behind closed eyes and long dusty lashes, it struck me; Clarke is beautiful, and I would have to be blind not to notice. However I realised sitting in front of that fire, watching that improbable creature that fell from the sky that not only is Clarke a rare beauty, she is also intelligent, strong, she is honourable, and despite all protests, a natural born leader. I came to learn that Clarke is a warrior, a healer, a carer, a person who loves hard and deeply, dedicating life to her people, even at her own expense. My affection grew as did my attraction to the woman, and even turning my back on her couldn’t quell it.

Last night, holding hands with the smiling girl, the urges I felt, and above all the sheer, simple pure desire to bring her happiness in the first place forced me to acknowledge what I so carefully ignored; I know I am on my way to a place of feeing I forever believed was killed with in me, its threshold one I promised myself that I would never cross again.

A dangerous pace for us both. Making the decision for the both of us, I close myself off, withdrawing far into Heda, pushing Lexa and her unwelcome emotions away. I shut Clarke out…because my love will get her hurt, by myself, by others… it can bring her no good.

 

Yet I reacted in temper, yet another thing the blonde succeeds in drawing from me, she makes be too real. Too human… too emotional. I feel emotions of course, even as Heda… but I have learned over a life time to compartmentalise them, to not let them conquer my head and impede my reason. Feelings are distractions they cloud the rational mind, they are weakness, and my behaviour, my lack of control has caused more trouble than between just Clarke and I. Though I terminated our friendship, an unfortunate necessity, I have also created a problem… one that Heda must deal with. I reacted badly, and treated Clarke, treated _Wanheda_ with disrespect, disrespect which is unfitting to her station as Skaikru ambassador, and a respected clan leader. If it were anyone else, huge offence would be taken, and now Skaikru is the thirteenth clan, she deserves the same recognition I would give any other leader. Apologising is not something that I relish nor master but as Heda, and as a woman who was a friend, as a Commander of thirteen peoples, I know I must swallow my pride and make amends.

The next day I do not see Clarke, but I decide to seek her out that night. I leave my room, dismissing my guards before making my way to Clarkes. Hesitating before knocking, I breathe deeply, steeling myself before raising my fist to knock on the door, and then bring it down on the wood firmly.

Pausing for perhaps half a minute, I frown when there is no answer. As always, when Clarke is here, her maid and guard lurk in the corridor, so she should be inside… yet she doesn’t answer her door. It looks most unfitting, the Commander of the thirteen clans standing and knocking uncertainly at an ambassador’s door, even more embarrassing if Clarke is in fact, not in the room. Sighing I turn to the maid and ask, just to be sure “Is Wanheda in her chambers?” The woman nods before respectfully lowering her gaze. So… I am being ignored. This is… new.

 Fighting off a blush, I grit my teeth and try again, knowing even before I do that this is not going to be an easy conversation. A shout sounds from within, a short, gruff “Leave me, alone.”

My nostrils flare at the disrespect, my mind again finds itself thinking what planet this girl comes from to think she can speak to me so, until I remember this is the woman who fell from the sky, to earth and that her life has always been in a parallel orbit to mine, until they came crashing together. Wherever the girl comes from, respect is respect and she is being most rude… it is unbecoming. I glance to the servant and guard, who look away respectfully but I can feel the tension mount. I cannot appear weak. Swallowing my annoyance, I turn to the servants and utter a short sharp abrupt “Bants.” before proceeding to knock the door again, much harder this time as they leave. “I need to speak to you, Clarke. Now”

I do not pose it as a question but a statement and even Clarke would not dare to go against my direct orders. The door fly’s open, and I almost take a step back, almost. I almost flinch at the mutinous expression on the blonds face, almost. But I don’t… I am Commander, I am Heda, and I do not flinch.

We stare each other down for what feels like an eternity. The blonde doesn’t stand back from the door, she doesn’t invite me in, and doesn’t seem like she is going to, so despite my annoyance I decide to not force the issue and get on with why I came here in the first place. Taking a deep breath, I launch into the short speech I have settled upon “I have come to apologise for my previous behaviour. I was feeling… unwell though that is no excuse for the way I spoke to you, Clarke. So, I apologise and I hope you will consider accepting my apology.”

Clarke says nothing for almost a minute, and when she does speak her voice is a fraction softer though her composure is still most forbidding. She sighs, and shakes her head slightly as she speaks “Lexa… just tell me what happened? Tell me what this is really about. Please”

She catches me off guard, for of all the scenarios that ran through my mind, this was not one of them. I anticipated a possible stony silence, anger, silence, a reluctant acceptance perhaps, but not this.  I didn’t expect for her to question me, again.

 

 

Clarke

 

 

Lexa is here, at my door standing as stiff as a freaking board and reciting what is obviously a very practised apology. Her voice isn’t cold, exactly, but it’s not warm either… her face is bears her usual “Heda look” cold, indifferent, and stern. In fact there is so little, little sincerity in this apology, I wonder why she even bothered making the trip up here in the first place.

It takes all I have not to roll my eyes, because at least she is trying but I’m so tired, so fucking tired of this constant tug of war between us, the tug of war between myself and my own feelings, my responsibilities. I’m tired Lexa not just saying what’s on her mind, I’m tired of not owning what’s on mine… life is too fricking short for this, there is too little freaking happiness in it, and far too much drama.

As Lexa finishes her obviously rehearsed apology, and I think about accepting it just to end this… slow torture for the both of us. Lexa obviously hates every second of this stiff apology as I do, but I don’t… because I need to know why she freaked out... I want to know why she is being like _this_ , now. I’m still pissed, still hurt but I need to know what the hell is going on.  I’ve always hated being kept in the dark, maybe it’s a space thing… growing up in darkness, both literally and figuratively speaking. On the Ark, the only light, real light we saw before coming to the ground were the stars, everything else impenetrable darkness. Sometimes, I can’t help but think about my dad, floating out there in the emptiness, in the blackness. Earth is hard, the people too, but the ark was as hard in a different way. The regular people of the Ark had no choices, were kept in the dark about everything by the people in charge, even by my own mother. Arkers lives were controlled to the last detail, we were tested and categorised, every aspect of our life planned for us, and we were never asked what _we_ wanted, always kept in line… or locked up, like I was. I guess that’s why I have no patience for it anymore. I guess that’s why Heda’s tone doesn’t intimidate me as much as it should, because as threatening as she can be, I’m more afraid of what I don’t know, and there is a lot she isn’t telling me.

 I close my eyes as I sigh, and let the words come out, the words that I don’t have the energy to keep in anymore. “Lexa… just tell me what happened? Tell me what this is really about. Please”

Lexa body language changes instantly the second I ask the question. She was already distant, already taut but Lexa’s body tightens, her shoulders square, that defined jaw clenches and her nostrils flare. The walls within her eyes break for a split second before she gets them back in place, and the only thing I get time to glimpse is panic, panic that is replaced by a cool emptiness a split second later. She waits a beat before responding… and when she does it’s in her Heda voice, the coldest it’s been since I’ve come to Polis. “That is not what I came here to discuss, Clarke. I came because I owed an apology to my ambassador. The way I spoke to you is not fitting of your rank or station among the clans. It was disrespectful, however I stand by what I said. I cannot permit myself to be distracted. I can no longer allow myself to indulge in your…personal company, Clarke.”

The more she speaks the angrier I get, but that last sentence is like a slap in the face, and I cut her off, totally livid and hurt that _Lexa_ … after all she did to _me,_ doesn’t even do me the courtesy of calling me her friend. “You can’t permit yourself to indulge my _personal company,_ Lexa? Personal company… really? We weren’t even friends, is that it? What was I? Another one of the staff that served to amuse you from time to time, _Heda_?”

Lexa’s eyes flicker in surprise, but just for a second. A second later she is back in control, and starts to look like her patience is wearing in as she carries on, her voice now tinged with an anger that wasn’t in it before “From now on, any interaction between us shall be in regards to specific clan business. You are of course still welcome to use my personal library, but I shall be having them moved from my bedroom to a more communal area. This is… this is not what I want, personally Clarke, but it is how it must be. I again apologise for my behaviour as your Commander, Ambassador.”

Heda doesn’t break for a second, her eyes for once give me nothing, because maybe there is nothing there. Looking into those empty green eyes I recognise this exact expression from before Finns death, and then from the Mountain, and I know that Heda has made up her mind. And as I learned the hard way, there is no changing Heda’s mind when she has made her decision and right now I don’t even want to. Heda’s face, stoic, impassive, firm and unmoving is enough to remind me of the horrors I’ve seen, horror I’ve done, and who gave me no choice but to do them.

Gritting my teeth, I embrace the anger and say “Very well, Heda.” And then I shut the door in her face.

 

*******

 

 The next few weeks are rough. Really rough. I get over the anger of Lexa’s turnaround and then the shock, hurt and loss sets in, even though life goes on in the palace as if nothing has changed. Now Lexa has cut herself from my life I am left with the same overwhelming amount of free time. The truth is the last two months, things are finally really starting to settle down between the Clans and Skaikru, trade is flowing freely, my people seem to have accepted the Skaikru joining the coalition and we are fully on our way to integrating, leaving me, as Ambassador, with not a lot to do. There are still meetings to attend, but it’s pretty much about mundane grounder topics, settling disputes, storing food for the winter, and Skaikru, new to the Coalition has little to offer, so more often than not I end up I sit through meetings hours at a time, without a thing to say. I only see Lexa at these council meetings or at mealtimes and the rest of the time I guess she is avoiding me like the plague. The afternoon meal is never easy, the Heda, myself and Clan leaders all sit together at the great table at the top of the dining hall, while the rest of the Palaces attendants and staff dine with us. It’s usually a happy time, food and drinks flow, people laugh and joke and even the bickering clan leaders seem to put aside their petty arguments at meal times, but for me now, sitting a place a way from Heda, they are torture. I cannot change places, because such a gesture would be transparent to the rest of the clans, so I sit to Lexa’s right as I always do, but instead of Lexa cutting into the leaders boisterous talks in harsh and sometimes funnily crude Trigedasleng, or instead of whispering quietly to me, she sits in silence, staring into her cup, and barely eats at all, avoiding catching my eye. I scarf down my food as fast as I can, just wanting to get away from the only friend I _had_ here, literally inhaling my food to get away from the woman who so obviously can’t even stand to be beside me.

Of course, the change between us doesn’t go unnoticed, the other leaders glance uneasily between us over the cups and plates, silently wondering but not daring to ask about out stony silence at the table. Titus is smug to the point I want hit him in his smirking bald face, but I force myself no to give him what he wants because I swear he is trying to rile me up, and I won’t give him the satisfaction.

Honestly, I miss her so much it’s like a physical pain sometimes, somewhere in my chest, sharp and deep and hitting me without warning. Polis, a place I came to love has become surprisingly void since Lexa and I no longer spend time hanging out. I didn’t realise how much I came to rely on seeing her, how most of my day to day activities involved her somehow.

Now I walk alone, avoiding the trail where I know she trains with the Nightbloods every second afternoon and I guess Lexa avoids the river I go to draw, because I haven’t seen her cut through the clearing once over the last few weeks, even though it takes a half hour off her journey. I don’t do much reading anymore either, and reread my battered Ark copy of the book thief until I know it word for word. Lexa true to her word, had her books moved into the main corridor alcove, but the fact she moved them in the first place, so I wouldn’t have a reason to go to her room is enough to make me not want to take one at all. I buy my own chalks and coals, and put by the ones Lexa gave me. The ones I buy somehow just don’t feel right, my drawings just aren’t as good, so I can’t even enjoy that anymore. Even every time I go to the market, surrounded and clustered by the hundreds of people, it still somehow feels empty without her…but I go every day anyways, just to see the performers, because they remind me of happier times, before everything went to shit.

The whole thing is actually kind of depressing, because I don’t want to miss her, but I do, more than I believed I could.

 

*******

 

The sudden and vast distance between us hard in the beginning but it also gives me time, time to myself… something I’ve avoided as much as possible since coming to Polis. My own thoughts are never pleasant, but they no longer tear me down, they no longer break me. Realising this, I start thinking about it more and realise that in the last year, I have transformed wholly. I have been broken completely, torn apart by the things I’ve done, but somehow managed to still carry on, to still survive even though I wanted nothing more than to die, but refused, considering myself unworthy this escape from living with what I had done. But since coming to here, as I learned day by day to live with the Grounders, I learned to live with myself and the shattered pieces came slowly back together. I am not whole, maybe I never will be but I’m not broken either, and even though the cracks are still visible, the gaping holes have healed.  I wonder maybe if I’m strong enough, if I’m ready… to go back to the Ark… Arkadia now, I still can’t get used to it, even after all this time. Am I ready to face my people, to face my demons? I’m not sure, but one thing I know for sure is that Polis, which once felt like a sanctuary, a place that I came to love, and kind of felt like home, feels hollow to me now, and ready or not, I have nowhere else to go. It’s here or there, so I guess it’s worth a shot. The only problem is… I need Heda’s permission.

As Lexa’s ambassador from Skaikru, and now a member or the coalition, I bow to Heda as one of her officers, and one of her people, and therefore have to get her blessing before I can leave the Capital. The last thing I want to do is go and ask Titus, the bald asshole that he is, for anything… but now I am nothing more than Heda’s ambassador, I decide that I should do what any other ambassador would expected to; request and official audience with the Commander, and to do this, it means dealing with Titus. When I put in my request, the bastard actually has the nerve to flash me a snide smile (not a pretty sight) and I seriously have to clench my fist, to keep from wiping it off his smug face.

To my disbelief, he grants my request immediately and tells me he will clear time with Heda before the afternoon meal. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but then accept it without argument. Even though it’s obvious the man cannot wait to see the back of me ( it usually takes at least a few days to be granted an audience, sometimes even over a week ) I decide the sooner I get this over with the better, and nod before seeing myself out, leaving the gleeful bastard behind me. I have a little over two hours before the audience, a formal occasion, so I go back to my room to get ready and change. I call a maid to braid my hair and paint my face, and then dress in my most formal grounder clothes, , clothes that I have become quite fond of and then, I wait.

Thinking it over, I ask myself… is this really what I want? I am going to miss it here for sure, miss the culture, the people… the vibrancy of the city. But I know that I won’t miss the tension. I won’t miss the feeling like something is missing… I won’t miss seeing Heda, who hides the woman who laughed and danced with me, and keeps shut away behind herself. I won’t miss missing Lexa. Arkadia might be a mess, it might be a mistake to go back... But I need to get away from here… I need to get away from her.

 

*******

 

Before long a maid comes to tell me my audience will be in twenty minutes so I make my way down to the great hall and try to calm the sudden nerves that make my stomach flip. A minute later the doors are pulled open and I walk into the great hall, making my way up the long dark carpet, to kneel before the Heda. It is obvious, from the moment I get close enough for her to recognise me, that Titus didn’t tell Lexa that I requested this official audience. It surprises me, and then makes me even more nervous because Lexa’s slack jaw expression is literally horrified. I glance over to Titus, who sits to the side, trying and failing to smother a grin. The guy has always given me a bad feeling, and not just because he hates me, I have the feeling he is playing me, playing Lexa… playing us, and I don’t like it.

I turn my attention back to the leader, just as her shock turns to disbelief, looking more distressed with every step closer until I arrive before the throne and fall into a bow, as all Clan leaders do. Lexa’s voice sounds pained as she almost whispers “Wanheda, rise.” and I do, stand and stare at the floor waiting for her to tell me to speak. Lexa frowns at me, thinking about her words as she looks at me, trying to fight her face back into its mask of impartiality.” You requested and official…audience.” It is supposed to be a statement… but sounds more like a question, a question weighted with hurt and accusation as I raise my head to look into blazing green eyes filled with dread.

I take a deep breath and I remember that this is what she wanted, that this is the way she wants it to be. Lexa wants me as an ambassador, not as a friend. “Yes Heda. I have requested an audience because I humbly request, as your ambassador to Skaikru, your permission to leave Polis, and return to Arkadia.”

Lexa actually gasps, for a second her eyes flicker between mine searching for doubt, regret, anything… but finding none she exhales a shaky breath before asking, her voice low, almost a whisper “For how long?”

The question catches me off guard, firstly I didn’t expect it, and secondly, I don’t have an answer. How long? Our people are at peace, there is little or nothing for me to do in the Capital… no war is brewing and our people thrive. I take a second to form my response, not wanting to sound unsure and then I speak “That is a difficult question to answer, Heda. But for now our people are at peace, we are on our way to fully integrating within the coalition, Azgeda is staying in line… there is not much more I can do in Polis, and I feel like I could be of more use in Arkadia. So with your permission I would like to return, for the…foreseeable future.”

Heda absorbs my words for over a minute, those eyes that were so filled with trepidation now change, flickering between panic and sadness before seeming to settle on anger.

When Lexa speaks again her voice comes out hard “You wish to return for good.” It’s not a question but an accusation and I don’t really know what to say. I take a second to think, and again Titus catches my eye, looking far too pleased with himself… he will finally have what he has wanted for the last 6 months; me gone from the Capital. And I’m too tired to fight him anymore “I wish to return until I am needed, Heda. If there is an issue or need for me in the Capital I shall return immediately at your first request.”

Lexa’s eyes burn, her jaw slips from side to side for a second and I recognise the tell, Lexa subconsciously does this when she is upset and my heart, despite everting that went down between us, squeezes in my chest. This lasts only a second, before I notice Lexa’s eyes, that seem to get darker by the second, and then as she takes a deep breath through flared nostrils, she leans back in her throne and says in a clear detached tone “I… I deny your request, Wanheda.”

My mouth literally drops, I hear Titus hiss, and I even notice the eyebrows raise of her guards. I don’t fully understand and I’m overwhelmed, can she do this? Keep me here against my will? Doesn’t that make me her prisoner? I speak quickly, with far too little respect, my temper rising along with panic “W…what? You can’t be serious.”

Heda stands and looks down at me from her throne, intimidating as she states in her coldest tone “I have further use for you in Polis.”

Titus cuts in striding forward, his voice shaking with poorly contained anger “Heda… there is no need for Wanheda to stay in Polis, things with Skaikru are settled.” Lexa cuts them off with the swift lift of her hand, her green eyes blazing her voice dangerous. “I require the room cleared. Now.”

Titus stops speaking but his face turns a patchy purple as he turns to the guards, shouts an order in rough Trigedasleng, and the guard’s spring into action. I don’t move, I’m in shock staring at the Heda who has turned her back on me without saying another word and the next thing I know the guards are walking towards me, ushering me and following me from the room, as I hear Titus hiss “Heda..” and Lexa’s voice cutting in angrier than I’ve maybe ever heard it “Em pleni Titus. Bants.”

The man storms out after me, and we stop as the guards pull the great hall doors shut, leaving Lexa alone inside. I hear a glass smash in the great hall, followed loud crashing sound, over and over again, I’ve never seen her like this, not ever. Titus shakes with rage as he glances from between me and the shut door, glowering as he spits between gritted teeth, “You will be her end.” And then storms away. I stare back to the huge doors, stare hard as if I can see through them to the leader within, and think about his words. How can I be her end, when I am apparently nothing more than her prisoner?

 

 

Lexa

 

As usual I am sitting in my throne, uncomfortable as always waiting for the next clan leader to make his requests. I am weary, so weary… but I always seem to be, since end of my friendship with Clarke. There is no joy to my days and even training with the Nightblood is not as freeing as it once was. The children notice the change within me and as children can be, are gentle with me, applying themselves to their training and not tasking my already frayed patience. They are good little warriors, and they do bring me some solace, though one that is cast in shadow, always aware of what their fate is to be once I die, and so I survive as best I can, to spare them. The truth is, I had so little before Clarke’s arrival, so little joy, so little distraction from the heavy reality of my duty, but I was used to it, I never thought I needed anything else. During Clarkes time in Polis however, and the time we spent together, reminded me there is more to life than just surviving.

With Clarke there was more fun, more company, more life, and adjusting to the loss of this is almost as hard as adjusting to the loss of Clarke herself. Sighing I sit in the great hall, in my hard throne and will the time to go by so it may be the midday meal, where I can finally consume a glass of wine and sneak glances at the blonde I miss so much.

 

I am lost in this thought, my focus elsewhere, not on the doors that open, not on the figure that approaches so needless to say, especially considering Titus has not informed me _who_ has requested this audience, when I finally glance up and take in the sight at golden head, braided, her face painted, my heart almost stops. When she walks into my hall and kneels before me, her eyes down, and countenance so formal, it feels so wrong. I want nothing more than to raise from my throne and descend those steps and drag the girl up from the floor, on to my level, where she belongs. But at once fear cuts through the shock; Clarke requesting an official audience brings nothing good.

The last month has been a gruelling trial, harder than I expected it to be. Clarke had imbibed herself into my every day and her extraction from it leaves me feeling like I am missing a limb. I know it has not been easy on her either, she looks pale and miserable whenever I do see her. From what I gather from my frequent and uncomfortable interrogations with her handmaiden, she no longer reads, barely draws, and is overall very unhappy. It breaks my heart, yet as bad as things have become, perhaps I was naïve but I never imagined that it would result in Clarke prostate before me, officially requesting permission to leave Polis… to leave me, for an indeterminate amount of time.

It catches me off guard, so much so that Heda’s mask slips, as does her composure. Lexa allows her emotion to break free and cloud Heda’s mind, for a moment we become one, my desires and Heda’s and when I make my decision, it is hers too. The only thought that is present being “No… no she cannot leave. And so when I speak, it is without forethought, it is without control… it is a purely selfish conviction when refuse her request. Titus cuts in and I cut him off. I need him out, I need her out, and I need them all out because I am losing control.

I don’t see the look on Clarkes face as I have her escorted out, followed by Titus and the guards, and I am glad. The moment those doors shut and I am alone, the dam breaks, my composure fails completely and my entire body is overcome with trembling… burning salt fills my eyes and I am angry, I am sad and above all I am scared. I grab a glass from the low table beside my throne and hurl it across the room, my bloodlust not satiated I unsheathe my sword and then proceed to hack at the unimposing wooden table, hitting it over and over again until all that is left are splinters. When it is in shreds, and nothing left to hack I slump down on the floor beside shattered wood, I lean against my throne and try to digest the last 20 minutes. Clarke wishes to leave, and possibly never come back… and I can stop her, I have. I have denied her permission, she would never go without it and risk upsetting the balance of peace that exists between our clans… but it brings a bitter taste to my mouth to think of her being here against her will. Clarke is important to me, I do not what to lose her but to abuse my power is to push her away further, and she deserves better than that. I don’t want her to leave, but I don’t want her to feel like… to be… my prisoner.

 

******

 

 Eventually I calm enough to leave. I call a handmaiden to cancel all other obligations for the day and head to my room where I slide to my floor, and try to meditate and calm my tortured mind. Finally just as myself slipping into that blank space that brings me peace, there is a harsh knock to my door, starling me from my meditation. My eyes fly open and I rise in an instant, stepping to the door quickly, pulling it open perhaps too eagerly, hoping, and believing that it is Clarke. I am left sorely disappointed when I come face to face with my most displeased advisor. “Heda. I wish to speak to you.”

My battered patience is tested once again “Not now, Titus”.

The man is not easily dissuaded, he colours and glares, before huffing a short breath and imposing his “mentor tone”, one I am hard pressed to deny. “Heda, respectfully, I insist you hear me now.”

I say nothing, but stand back from the door and motion to him to enter, shutting the door behind us. As soon as it shuts, he turns to me, dropping all facades and formality behind closed doors and becoming the man who raised me “Your actions are folly Lexa.” I say nothing in response and he frowns before continuing “You have no more use for Clarke in Polis, she has served her purpose. You refused to send her from Polis before, despite the fact it is obvious your feelings for the girl have been growing, she is using you, taking advantage of your affection, and even if she was not, this puts you both in danger. Sending her away is what you need to do, I have told you before, and now you refuse her _own_ request to return to Arkadia, to her people? What will the other clan leaders think? How can you justify keeping a loyal clan representative against their will? It is tyranny, Lexa. You are not a tyrant.”

 

This hits a nerve, and I am reminded of my own thoughts from earlier, my patience starts to break, and temper flare, I turn from him and stride to the window “Clarke is not a prisoner, Titus.”

The man is openly losing his temper with me, which though not unheard of, but very rare, his tone bitter as he speaks “What would you call her then, Heda…your concubine?”

My eyes widen at his nerve, even if he is my most trusted advisor, he should know better than to speak to me, about her, like that. I wheel around advancing on him in an instant, he realises his mistake and takes a step back but I step closer, squaring up to him, just daring him to go further, as my voice is low, dangerous as I hiss. _“ How dare you speak to me in such a way?!_ How dare you disrespect _her_ in such a way? Clarke is an ambassador and nothing less, you shall not treat her as if she is a common whore, or treat _me_ as someone low enough to solicit one. You would do well to guard your tongue Titus…Fleimkeipa or not.”

I expect the man to back down but he doesn’t, he lowers his head for a second, composing himself before he continues, trying a different tactic. His tone becoming softer, trying to a

“Lexa, I am sorry but my concerns are valid, you’re feelings for Clarke put you both in danger, if you care about Clarke, you will send her home. It is the only way that she will be safe…Don’t make her pay the same price for your mistakes that Costia did.”

Something breaks within me, the image of Costia’s cold, bloodied head in my hands swims before my eyes, before it transforms into Clarkes. I take a deep breath, trying to get a handle on my emotions, but I cannot. The man has crossed a line, Costia is dead, at peace, and she doesn’t deserve to be dragged back from the other world just for this bull-headed man to make his point. I lose all control that I have on myself, advancing on the taller man, whose eyes widen but stands his ground. I embrace my wrath, almost hissing as I begin, but with my voice raising with every word “ _My_ mistakes? Azgeda cut off Costia’s head, and _delivered it to my bed_ , and _STILL_ I let them into my alliance, I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty!”

We are almost nose to nose, I see the frustrations, but also the shame in my old teacher s eyes, and I know despite everything he is trying to do what is best for me, for the clans, even if he is going about it the wrong way. He bows his head, humbled as he speaks “I didn’t mean to offend you Heda.”

I step back from the man, turning my back on him and stare out the window, to Polis and beyond “Yes, you did. But you also mean well, which is why I will forgive you… this time. Leave me now. I wish to be alone.” Titus bows and his leave, knowing better than to test my patience.

Titus leaves and for all he has said, for all the offence, I know that he is right about one thing, Ive always known it.  If Clarke wishes to leave, I have to let her go.

 

******

 

I wait until the evening, and give my time to compose myself before summoning Clarke to see me. Not privately, I summon her to hearing as formal as her audience, I dress in armour and await her in the candlelit great hall, trying to keep my resolve, trying to hide the swell of emotion it brings forth within me.

When Clarke comes in, she is still dressed in formal wear, and her hair is braided though she has scrubbed the paint from her face. She walks to the throne, an odious look on her face, avoiding my gaze and gracelessly dropping into a bow before me. She looks angry, and exhausted, and once again, I regret the fact that I seem to bring nothing to the woman, but pain.

I hide myself behind strength, behind formality, speaking firmly, clearly, my voice stout and formal “Rise Wanheda.”

Clarke rises, but still refuses to look at me. Sighing slightly I continue as before “I have had time to rethink your request. After looking into things in more detail, I agree that for the moment, your work here in Polis has been accomplished. Perhaps indeed, you may be of more use in Arkadia, or perhaps not. Nevertheless, if you wish to return… you have my permission.”

It is in excuse and Clarke knows it, I shall not apologise for my previous refusal and I do not feel I need to, she is getting what she wants in any case. Clarke lifts her eyes to mine as I speak, but they are cold and hard. When I finish she says nothing, she just holds my regard with blazing blue orbs, before nodding once, harshly and then turns to leave. I watch her go, and try to ignore the crushing of my already stunted heart as she does.

 

*******

 

Clarke begins her preparations to depart immediately. As always these days, I only see her at clan meetings and I am informed by her at one of them that she is due to depart within the week. I simply nod, and swallow the lump that appear in my throat, willing myself to accept that this will be better, that this is what I will want. Willing myself to forget the fact, that I want her.

 

As each day passes, and the day Clarke leaves Polis draws closer, the tighter the feeling in my chest becomes. The closer the end comes, the more I regret my actions, the more I curse my fear, the more I begin to panic that when she goes, she will never come back. Why would she? There is nothing for her here… as ambassador she has completed her most pressing work, she has integrated her clan within our Coalition, Skaikru is the 13th clan and honestly I have no need for her in Polis, except my own. Unless there is a catastrophe or war, she really has no reason to come back. It could be years before we cross paths again, if I even live that long.

 

I torture myself throughout the week, berate myself for pushing away the only friend I have had for years, for pushing away the one person who dares challenge me, not my leadership… but ME. I hate myself for pushing away the one person who sees Lexa though Heda, who sees how we are one, but not the same. I curse myself for pushing away a woman who made me feel, for the first time since Costia, anything other than emptiness. I curse myself for pushing away the one woman I have wanted since then, the only woman I have ever wanted, quite like this. With Costia, things were easy, we fell in love young, and though our relationship was kept secret until after my conclave, the greatest trial we had, until her capture was Titus. The rest was easy, Costia had no obligation to anyone else other than her first, and as one of my warriors she accompanied me on missions and journeys, Titus be damned, until of course, Nia captured her. Things with Clarke have always been more than complicated, we are owned by peoples who are at odds with each other more often than not, we come from different worlds, different cultures, different ideals, but despite it all; I still want her. I want Clarke despite the fact we are destined to not be, despite the fact we are destined to be at odds, I want her despite myself, my obligations, and my common sense. I want her more than I have ever wanted anything for myself, and I drove her away.

 

********

 

 

The night before she leaves, I will myself to stay strong. Force myself not break as I sit on my floor, any inner peace unattainable, sleep impossible, as the candles burn ever lower. It is late, very late, and the palace sleeps, I too am ready for bed but sleep is beyond me. Polis is holding a typical departure ceremony for Clarke’s leaving tomorrow morning and I still can’t bring myself to accept that she is really going, still can’t bring myself to acknowledge the fact in a mere matter of hours I will be thanking her for her service and wish her well on her journey in front of the city, before watching her ride off, for possibly forever. As more time passes, the more am consumed with a need to go to her, to talk to her, just once more, to explain everything, and apologise, before I never get the chance.

My decision is made the moment I realise, this is more than likely the last chance I will ever get to see her, alone. My body moves of its own accord, out the door and up the stairs, to Clarke’s chamber. I knock on her door quietly, softly enough to not wake her should she be asleep, before holding my breath and clasping the handle and turning it, and then pushing the door open silently. I enter uninvited simply because I do not wish to wake her if she sleeps but also because I do not believe she will consent to see me, should I give her the chance to refuse. Walking in to the flickering chambers light I prepare myself if she is indeed awake for an onslaught of abuse but I’m surprised to find her roused, and above all, silent. Clarke stands by her bed folding garments in her nightclothes, and I am struck, most inappropriately by the fact that this is the first time I have seen her anything other than her clothes. Thankfully, the greater part of her skin is covered by a robe and I can focus on the matter at hand. Clarke just stares, an unreadable expression on her face as she continues to fold clothes, and placing them neatly on the bed, all the while holding my gaze as I take a deep breath and move to stand a short distance in front of her beside her bed and try, unsuccessfully to find my words. She is patient for a minute, perhaps two before finally an elegant eyebrow raises, her expression still indiscernible and asks me in her low voice “Heda?”

All I can do is blink. Heda is not here… I have locked her away somewhere where she can do no more harm, where she can no longer cause me doubt or to second guess this decision. It is just me, Lexa the person I need to be to be to say what I have to say, and to apologise for my endless series of mistakes.

It is harder than I thought it would be, to be honest, to tell Clarke the truth... to speak my mind and to share my… feelings. I am suddenly uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and her level stare reminds me of the war tent, when she backed up upon me, and revealed me to myself. I cannot hide from the woman, I never could. Swallowing hard I take a subtle breath and look around the now very bare room. Chests are packed, and heavy hemp sacks filled, the only thing of hers I notice that remains apart from the pile of luggage that awaits removal is the small wooden chest I gave her, containing her art supplies, unpacked, untouched, and obviously to remain in Polis. I shouldn’t be surprised the woman wants nothing from me, but nevertheless; my heart breaks a little more.

It is this that finally spurs me to speak. I redirect my sad gaze to hers, and ask, though I know the answer “When do you leave?”

Clarke pauses a second before answering, each one of her blue eyes searching mine, a light frown appears between those brows as she answers, her voice husky “ Tomorrow, straight after the ceremony. My things will be sent ahead, at first light.” I say nothing but nod, overwhelmed, by heart shattered and my mind overcome with things I want to say, but not sure of how to do so, until the words blurt from me, barely above a whisper “I’m sorry.”

Clarke hesitates a moment, her face indifferent before she says “Don’t be”

Salt burns my eyes, and my composure falters, because I know I did this to us. I drove her away from Polis, I drove her away from me. It is too much, part of me wants to return to my room, to nod and grimly accept her dismissal, but the other, and the greater part cannot leave here, not until she understands why.

My eyes bore into hers, I take a small step forward, and speak more honestly, more freely than I have in years. The words fall from my lips uncoordinated, rushed but completely sincere. “Clarke please, just listen, you at least deserve to know the truth, even though I know it changes nothing. I understand you are angry with me, and that what I said and did hurt you. I was a coward, Clarke. I pushed you away without telling you why… I put an end to a…friendship that meant the world to me because I couldn’t trust myself to be able to be just your friend, I couldn’t do it because I… I…Io..” Here I falter unable to say the three words that are so true. I cannot say them to her, like this.

 I take a deep breath before I continue, rephrasing what I want to say, but remaining truthful. “Because I wasn’t strong enough to conquer my feelings, but refused to tell you about them… and in acting like this, and pushing you away I made it feel like it was your fault. I am sorry I let fear rule me, and cause me to act poorly, Clarke. ” I feel drained the second I finish, but oddly freed, even though I know my feelings are almost certainly unrequited, they no longer own me.

Clarke blinks once, slowly, her blue eyes wide as she asks me in her low voice, her tone hesitant “Fear of what Lexa?”

I pause a second before answering, this fear is still not an easy thing for me to claim, but I do so because it is the truth. “Fear of you.”

Clarke’ eyes widen in shock, and she says nothing, but I am not upset by this, I had not expected a response, because there is nothing to say about it, not after all I have done. Though I am still distraught that Clarke is leaving, I feel unbound, relieved that things shall not longer go unsaid, relieved that I have succeeded in doing what I came here to do, and I hold out my arm to clasp hers and say, while trying to quell my burning eyes, and regain my composure “May we meet again.”

Clarke’s eyes drop to my hand before she slowly reaches pout, and wraps her slender fingers against my forearm, I grasp hers and I am afraid I shall break, afraid the tears will spill free but they don’t, not yet. I watch the battle of emotions play out on Clarkes beautiful face, she looks pained, indecisive, but there is a compassion in her eyes, a warmth that wasn’t there before until suddenly  her face crumples and she looks as broken as I feel, staring at me in the dappled light. Clarke’s blue eyes blaze and she takes a deep and heavy breath, before she raises her a hand to the back of my neck, pulling me in, and to my absolute surprise, she kisses me.

Clarke kisses me, and I cannot stop shaking. I pull back, and the tears cannot be contained, they burst free as I look into those blue eyes just to check, just to be sure that this is real… that she wants this… that she wants me.

As soon as our eyes meet, Clarke understands my question, she nods, eyes on my lips before she pulls me back in and this time, trembling as I am, I respond. I kiss her with everything I have, everything that I am. I kiss Clarke like there is no tomorrow.

 

Clarke

 

 

This is…unexpected. Lexa is in my bedroom dressed in her long black nightgown, bare faced, hair down and is baring her heart and soul, as much as she can… to me.

When Lexa says those three words “fear of me” I know she is admitting something she would never admit to anyone else. Lexa is never afraid, not even of death yet here she is, standing in front of me, nervous but persistent and determined to say what she came to say. Apparently the mighty Heda has feelings…for me, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, I’m not sure how I feel about her, about us. It obviously explains why she shut me out, why she pushed me away and it’s almost too much to finally hear her admit it, to admit that Lexa _feels_ for me, because it’s not like it can change anything, _now_.

It’s not something that I expect to hear from her ever, though I have to admit, I am not surprised. Lexa has always been pretty up front about us, the ball was always in my court, and here it is on my side, again. But the question is… what do I want? Now Lexa has spilled it all, well pretty much all of it, I still think she is holding back a little, I ask myself… again; can I do this? Can I betray my people? Can I go ahead with this, and risk having her walk away again?

 

The feelings I had for her… they are still there, smothered under a layer of abandonment and hurt, but they’re still there, as strong an untimely as ever. It’s just that… It’s too late. I know it’s too late but I still can’t stop thinking “what if?” What if she had told me this a month ago, would it have changed things? Would I have said something back, would I have told her the truth… about how I feel? Would I have wanted to stay… probably?  Would we have… become something? My questions are useless and painful, because no matter what, I am going back to Arkadia tomorrow, it’s all been planned, announced, my people are waiting for me, hell…I have a celebration to see me off first thing in the morning. I know this… I _know_ , but I still can’t help but wonder that if it would have made a difference, I can’t help but wish she’d told me sooner, and it’s tearing me apart.

But better late, than never.

******

 

 

I can’t stop myself, and I really don’t want to, I’ve had enough pain, and I decide to seize the chance for even the smallest possibility for fleeting happiness. Looking at Lexa, her eyes shining with tears, her face, open and honest, and just so gorgeous, it would be impossible for me not to kiss her, not when I’ve been wanting to, whether I admitted it or not for so long.

 I take a step closer to her, and the shining green eyes widen slightly, her mouth parts in surprise as I reach behind her head, locking my fingers in brown curls and with one last look in those green eyes,  pull her to me, and kiss her.

When I do, my mind literally stops for a second, all the thoughts, worries, everything just disappears and all I can feel, all I care about it the girl’s lips that gently press back against mine. Honestly, I can admit, Lexa’s lips from the moment I met her have always caught my attention, one thing I could never not look at. They are so pink, such a contrast to her golden skin and that dark war paint that bring out her green eyes. Lexa’s lips are full, really full, they are soft and plump and her bottom one is marked with a tiny dimple in the centre, a dimple I really had to avoid staring at. On the top right hand corner of her top lip is one discrete tiny freckle, a little something I came to think of as a representation of Lexa on Heda’s face, no matter how stern and fierce the commander is, there is always that freckle, something so unfierce that is always there, the part of Lexa that Heda can’t erase.

When Lexa did kiss me in the tent, her lips did not disappoint, they were gentle, voluptuous and very warm as they pressed against mine. Even though we have kissed before, even though I know what to expect it doesn’t prepare me for them again, it doesn’t stop the jolt that runs through me as they press against mine for the second time, lips that are still against mine for a second before they relax, pressing and moulding to mine with that same tenderness, before she breaks away. Lexa’s jade pools are wide, shock and disbelief is written all over that beautiful face and her eyes brim with tears, shining with a silent question “Are you sure?”

Even now, when I’m the one who initiated the kiss, the one who is pushing to make it deeper, Lexa is ever respectful. Pulling back and looking me dead in the eye, her eyes telling me everything I need to know, in them is a question one that I am more than eager to answer her question so I nod, before pulling her back in, noticing the tear that finally tracks down her cheek as soon as I nod my consent. We kiss again, and this time Lexa is ready, her lips press and pull against mine with mounting need. Her lips, so plump intoxicate me, they tease me to run my tongue across their pillow-like surface and when I do, Lexa begins to tremble, hard.

But she kisses me back, Lexa’s mouth opens and lures me out, a soft tongue sneaks out from between those lips and caresses mine. I seriously had no idea Lexa could kiss like this, as she takes the lead, pulling back to change positions, then kissing me deeper and with such passion my knees almost buckle at one point. Ok, we have kissed before, the tent gave me an idea of Lexa’s tenderness, but right here, right now, is pure and unadulterated passion. I moan into Lexa’s mouth as she sucks lightly on my tongue, and when I do, the girl starts shaking harder. We separate a second to catch our breath, foreheads pressed tightly together and I open my eyes to see her, breathing hard with her eyes closed tight, lashes shining with unshed tears and her full, quivering, lips glistening in the candlelight. My heart stutters a second, just as Lexa’s eyes fly open and they stare into mine with blazing intensity, her pupils are blown, and then she pulls me back in, her sensual mouth moulding to mine in a second, and she kisses me harder, as if I am the last drop of water in a parched desert.

I’m burning up, kissing Lexa is out of this world and I can’t think about tomorrow, I don’t want to think about it not when she is pulling me to her like she is, not while her slim, strong body flexes against mine, and her hands run from my arms to behind my head. I want her, _all of her_ more than I’ve ever wanted anyone like this. Sure, I’m no stranger to lust, no stranger to sex, but never have I felt anything quite like this, this need I have to feel her, to touch her to taste her all of her, a need so strong I can’t think of anything else. I _desire_ her and that’s when I decide, this is happening, if she will let it, I am going to take this, all the way to the end.

My hands slide up to the back of her neck, before dropping to her exposed shoulder, trailing along skin that is so, so soft, surprisingly soft. Lexa’s breath hitches as I find one of the slim black straps and push it from her shoulder, leaving it completely bare as I start to back her slowly but surely towards the bed, kissing her intensely as we move back. Lexa sighs, a tiny gentle sound as I suck lightly on her bottom lip, until she bumps against the edge of the bed, breaking the kiss, her eyes flying open in surprise. I can’t contain the grin that breaks out when I see her adorable and totally bemused expression, that is so _unlike_ Heda, so unlike Lexa, the woman who is almost always, sure of herself. I’ve only seen Lexa like this once before, when I held her hand and badgered the girl into dancing with me, and by the end of the night Lexa was swaying alone, very gracefully in time to the music with a grin on her face. The memory brings a gentle smile to my cheeks but I give her a second to adjust, leaving her lips and dropping my mouth to that exposed golden skin of her collarbone and  kiss her there, trailing across the silky plain with my lips, and reaching out to taste her skin with the tip of my tongue. Lexa grips my shoulders, breathing harder as she tilts her neck up to give me more room, and I take advantage of it. I let my lips latch onto that hammering pulse point and _feel_ how fast her heart beats against my mouth. It makes me want her more literally _feeling_ the effect I have on the leader. I lavish her neck with kisses until it becomes too much for me, I need more. Pulling back I try to get a hold on myself as I put my hands on her shoulders, gently urging her to sit on the side of the bed. Lexa follows me lead, but never let’s go of me, holding my hands as she glides down looking up at me with huge green eyes filled when she does, with emotion, awe, fear, and lust. The way Lexa looks at me, like I’m everything, breaks me just a little, because I am so used to thinking I’m not enough, so used to people telling me, I’m not enough. If I could see myself through her eyes, I wonder what I would see. I become emotional for a second, because this… this is one thing that got me through, this belief Lexa has in me… it helped me heal. And now I’m leaving tomorrow, leaving her… and its breaking my heart.

Pushing away my sadness I tell myself firmly that if tonight’s the only night I have, I am going to give myself over to it. I will focus on Lexa and me, not tomorrow, not Arkadia… not the mess we made. I will focus on the exquisite woman who sits on the bed before me, looking up at me like I am something special, I will focus on the fact mighty leader shaking with nerves because I kissed her. I know why Lexa is shaking and I feel it too and even though I’m not physically trembling, I know being with Lexa like this could be the end of me… but I can’t think of a better way to go.

Enjoying the sight of the stunning girl sitting before me, I tear my eyes away from her face and slowly turn my attention to the other shoulder, taking one finger and dragging it across silky skin, to the thin black band that remains and then slowly, laboriously I draw it to the side, and let it fall from her shoulder. Lexa’s eyes follow the movement of my finger, I see her swallow deeply, and her breath a little harder but she doesn’t try to stop me. Ignoring my nerves and concentrating on the heat that runs through my body I bring my hands to my robe, and untie the sash around my waist, letting it fall open and show my wine coloured nightgown beneath, similar to Lexa’s, but shorter. Lexa’s eyes follow my every move, they become darker, and nostrils flare as she sees probably more of me than she ever has, so far.

Lexa swallow hard and lifts a tentative, fluttering hand that settles on my hip, under the robe and over the nightdress. The she looks up at me, her other hand tugging on mine, her lips parted in a silent plea and I lower my head to give her what she wants. Her lips latch to mine in a second, and she kisses me so fervently the wind leaves me, I move to lay down on her, and she lets me urge her back onto the bed, laying down, never breaking from my lips, strong arms circling me sink down onto her.

 We kiss frantically, hungrily, and Lexa still shakes but she doesn’t let it put her off, her hands are unsteady, but they still grip me fiercely. Lexa’s lips claim mine passionately, her tongue seeking mine, making me lose myself in her as those fluttering hands move to my shoulders, pushing off the robe, leaving me in just my night dress. Lexa breaks the kiss to look over my flushed skin, letting out a tiny sound of pure pleasure when she sees me in my bare night gown. Sighing she trails her calloused fingers over the warm skin of my collarbone, slipping own tracing over the exposed area of my chest, each touch sets my body on edge, and has it begging for more.

 My own hands are growing restless, and run over the long silhouette of the surprisingly slim Commander. In her armour she looks fierce and strong, but still looks compact, and slim. But skin to skin, with just two thin layers of silk between us I realise exactly how small the mighty warrior is, it actually takes me a full minute to I equivocate the memories I have of Lexa fighting, in battle, taking down several men her twice her size at the same time is the same woman who is underneath me, and shaking like a life. For some reason it turns me on more, knowing that I have that effect on her, that the mighty Heda, a warrior, and leader, and Lexa the quiet, intelligent, guarded woman behind it all, is willing to be vulnerable with me.

The reality of being with Lexa is almost too much, my breathing is heavy and I can’t seem to catch my breath, it gets harder as I let my hands roam, gliding from her rounded hip, up her slim waist before settling on her ribs. Each new place I touch her, earns me a slight gasp from the Commander, gasps that I relish and want to hear more of. Lexa seems a little unsure of where to put her hands at first, so she settles for anchoring one to a hip, and the other to a shoulder, but I want more and decide to encourage her to touch me. I pull back from the kiss and shift up a little, straddling the dumbstruck Heda’s waist before I drop down and kiss her, taking her hands and slipping them around my neck as we kiss. Lexa to my mounting frustration leaves them there, draped around my neck for several minutes of heavy kissing. Frustrated I finally reach up and grasp them setting them deliberately on my shoulders before leaning down and kissing her again, sighing lightly in encouragement as her fingers dance along the tops of my shoulders in loose circles, and I exhale louder egging her on. Lexa’s hands twitch but obey, sipping down a little more, and my breathing becomes laboured, she drags them down a little more, and I moan again. Lexa breaks the kiss, an unsure yet amused look on her face. Watching at me, she lets her fingers drag a little lower and I hiss as green eyes bore into mine, raising an eyebrow… daring her… to just do it. Lexa reads my expression and drops her gaze to my chest, before glancing back up to me before finally slowly dragging her hands down over my nightgown breasts, cupping me gently as I smirk down at the dazed brunette and breath “Finally”.

Lexa actually smirks back, eyes focused on my boobs, squeezing the flesh before reaching up and grabbing me, and pulling me into a fierce kiss, hotter than before, less controlled as the Commander fondles my chest, cupping me firmly, and trapping my covered nipples between forefinger and thumb. I get lost in it, in the way she feels me, sometimes breaking off the kiss to return her stare to her hands that massage increasingly sensitive flesh. It’s amazing, but I want to feel her too, I bring up my own hand and cup Lexa’s breast, which funnily enough is actually bigger than I thought it would be. Lexa’s skin feels like its burning up even through her nightgown, my hand palms the slight weight of her, flexing and rolling against the soft flesh, and I smile a little at her stifled moan as though the fabric I find a very hard nipple.

Lexa’s touches, touching Lexa has me really worked up, my body is starting to hum, impatiently urging me on. I’m suddenly overcome with the need to see Lexa’s skin, to see the rest of the body I’ve never dared to let myself capture on paper. Lexa kisses me deep, her tongue sweeping against mine as her strokes on my chest become heavier, and more urgent. Still kissing her, I reach down and begin to hike up Lexa’s nightdress, getting to thigh before I fell her tense. I stop and break the kiss, willing calm myself down, tell myself to take it slow… which is really the last thing I want to do, I am one caress away from tearing off the dress and ravishing the leader, but I hold myself back.  My blue eyes seek out green, green eyes that are almost black pupils blown wide, and dark as Lexa pants underneath me. I can’t help a cocky grin and when I speak my voice is huskier than usual, and my tone playful and affectionate. “Are you ok there, Commander?”

Lexa smiles a little, catching her breath as I hover above her, her eyes glancing down to linger on exposed cleavage before she sees to remember herself and glances back up. Lexa gives me a shy smile before replying her shy expression becoming serious the more she speaks. “I am very well thank you, Ambassador. But… are you sure you wish to do…this, Clarke? Perhaps we should talk first?

Here I am, lying on top of the girl, barely dressed, we are feeling each other up and literally am trying to take of her clothes and she still takes the time to make sure that I am sure. Its sweet, but a little frustrating, because currently, this conversation is standing between me and the naked Commander. “Yes, Lexa, I am definitely totally sure. Trust me… we have to talk at all.” I finish with a smile, because it’s true… I am definitely and totally sure… I want this… I want her.

Lexa’s smile splits wide again, showing pearly white, even teeth and that little crease appears, just begging me to kiss it. I love seeing Lexa smile like this, it’s such a rare sight, such a stunning sight that literally it makes my stomach flip every time I see it. I take a second from our heavy make out session to just appreciate how gorgeous she is, and I want to tell her, because I want her to know “You have a really big smile, you know.”

Lexa keeps her hands in my chest, but stops her caressing, smiling a little bigger, and amused expression on her face, before she raises an eyebrow and asks me dryly “Do I?”

I can’t help but smile, leaning down an inch away from beaming lips, looking into Lexa’s bright, crinkled eyes as I say “You do… Like crazy big. And you have this little crease that appears between your nose and top lip that you never get to see unless you’re smiling wide, like this. It’s totally adorable”.

Lexa’s eyes widen a little turning serious, she tries to smother her smile and summon Heda but fails, her serious eyes contrasting against the beaming mouth that says sternly “I am not adorable, Clarke.”

I smirk down at her facial battle before I quip Lexa rolls her eyes, but her smile is still on her face and I lean forward fast, before she has a chance to stop smiling and drag my tongue across that little crease, causing Lexa to grimace and push me away, leaving me smirking down at her before I laugh and say “You’re adorable when you pout too.”

Lexa narrows her eyes a second before wiping the smirk off my face, cutting me off mid teasing as she begins to pull up my own nightdress, only breaking the kiss when I need to lean back to lift my arms. The second my skin becomes bare, the grin slides off Lexa’s face and is replaced by total awe as her eyes rove over me, bouncing from one point to another, before she raises her eyes to mine and says “Clarke… you are so… so beautiful.”

 

                        ******** _Warning:This is where the real smut begins, and continues… to the end of the chapter.*******_

 

 

I smile and lean down to kiss the shocked expression from her face, pulling her own robe, helping her sit up so I can pull it off and a second later, it’s all golden skin and dark tattoos, far too many places for me to look at, and not enough time in the world to fully appreciate. Lexa, illuminated by candle light is stunning, my eyes widen, and my brain is overloaded by just how good she looks, her tanned skin, long legs, toned arms and rock hard stomach, Lexa’s body is strong, very strong, but yet she is surprisingly slender, much more so than I had thought. Each muscle is defined, but not pronounced, her body is feminine, very feminine, with rounded hips and firm, sculpted soft breasts and a small patch of light brown trimmed curls that makes my mouth go dry. I can’t seem to process words, all that comes out is “Wow.” As my eyes rove over Lexa’s body.

Lexa seems to be experiencing the same thing, her eyes drink me in, eyes wide and mouth parted she absorbs every inch of me. Now I’ve seen her, I burn for her, my hands itch to touch her so I lean forward and place my hands on her shoulders and kiss her once, before leaning back, dragging my hands down and watching Lexa’s toned stomach as it flexes with each laboured breath she takes, the defined rock hard abdominal muscles almost concave as she holds her breath, waiting to see what I will do next. I didn’t expect Lexa to be this smooth or soft, her skin feels like silk as my hand slides up this hard, but sweet surface, gliding upwards until I reach a small mound of soft flesh, peaked by a small, pink nipple, pebbled in the cold night air. My eyes rove over her, from her breasts, down her clenching stomach muscles, to the sparse light brown patch of air between her legs, down over her long, strong thighs, taking in each delicate line and whorl of her complex tattoos, noting every silver scar that marks her

Her golden skin is peppered small and large ones and everything in between. One in particular catches my eye, a long thin scar that horizontally wraps around left flank to just under her left breast. I trace it lightly from front to back, lost in the contrast of this glossy strip of skin and the golden plain that surrounds it. Lexa’s hand comes and covers mine, and I look up into wide, slightly anxious jade eyes, her low voice sounding unsure “I hope they do not bother you too much, Clarke. I know they are unsightly, but they are marks of battles won, and another day lived.”

My brow furrows, not understanding how Lexa could ever see herself, or any part of herself as less than beautiful. I lift her hand and bring it to my chest, I take the other and continue its path along the long scar while I speak “Lexa, you’re beautiful, they’re beautiful… all of you is beautiful.” Lexa visibly relaxes taking a deep breath and smiling slightly as she sits up and meets me halfway, kissing me tenderly, pulling me back with her, and I slip down, lying down on top of her, the rawness of the moment touching me. As I lay on her, we mould together, our bodies slot together perfectly, I nudge a thigh between Lexa’s and feel her warmth against me, and can’t contain a moan as I come in contact with hot, and very wet skin. When I do, Lexa begins to shake again.

We kiss, slowly and more tenderly then we had before, but it’s still just as passionate. I let my hands glide over Lexa’s sides, the hard abdominal muscles, her firm hips, over her pert and soft breasts, enjoying the feeling of her hard nipple against the palm of her hand. Lexa’s skin against mine is strangely addictive, it’s like I can’t get enough, and it won’t be enough, not until I have it all. We kiss, and it grows more heated, more desperate and body of our bodies feels the other. I let my hands roam freely over her taut and slight frame, then slip downwards, gripping iron thighs before I feel Lexa pause, obviously aware of my intentions. She breaks the kiss and holds my stare, eyes wide and though I slow down don’t stop moving downwards unhurriedly, giving her plenty of time to stop me, if she wants to. Lexa looks like she is thinking it over, a torn look on her face, until I reach trimmed soft curls and slip down, deliberately, watching those blown pupils stretch and almost swallow those jade irises whole. Lexa still doesn’t stop me, she breathes heavily and I wait, a breath away from my destination, for her to give me the go ahead. Lexa blinks, once, slowly and I know I’ve got my permission. Smiling, I drop down further and dip my fingers into incredible liquid heat as Lexa gasps, bucking her hips up despite herself, into my searching hand. My eyes fly shut just for a second, overwhelmed but the feeling of _her,_ against my hand. Lexa is wet, very wet, she is smoother than anything I’ve felt before and as soon as my hand comes in contact with the glistening heat I can’t stop myself from moaning “Fuck… yes.”

Opening my eyes again, to see Lexa staring at me,  green eyes that stay locked on mine as I slip down further, down to the part she is wettest of all, circling slowly before dragging my coated fingers up through tender, inflamed flesh. When I do, Lexa’s lashes flutter, her nostrils flare, and the smallest of sound escapes her throat. I do it again, smiling as her hips lift to meet my hand, adoring the surprised and awed expression on Lexa’s face as I repeat the move again, before circling my wet fingers around the small bundle of nerves that I know will make those tiny sounds, into full bodied moans of pleasure. The second I touch her clit Lexa begins to pant, eyes closed, and another minute sound slips out from her. Lexa is trying to contain herself, but I don’t want that. I want it all. “Lexa… Lexa look at me.” Green eyes open and meet mine, glazed and dark.

“Don’t hold back.” My voice is hoarse, and little more than a whisper, but Lexa heard me she gives me a slight nod before she leans up to kiss me, moving her legs a little further apart, giving herself to me, and it sets me off. I lean down to kiss her greedily, sucking on her velvet tongue while my hand moves slowly downwards through the inundated folds. Lexa groans into the kiss as my tongue draws hers out while one finger slips through her core, stopping at that hot, slight depression between swollen lips. Lexa moans loud this time and it’s probably the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard, and one push and then I am inside her, her velvet walls clenching around me. And fuck… it feels good. I reach down to pull up her legs up around my waist, giving me more room, and Lexa anchors herself to my back, and even though I can tell she is trying to be gentle, the strength in those thighs is incredible.  My finger moves within her before I pull out completely, just wanting to make sure, that she is ok with… that. “Are you good?”

Lexa’s ‘s response is enough to bring out a cocky smirk, the second I remove my hand, a frown crosses her gorgeous face, green eyes burn, hips lift and the Commander almost growls, her voice dripping with frustration “I am more than well, Clarke.”

I laugh a little, I can’t help it, and she frowns harder, gripping me around the waist hard with strong hands, lifting her hips to meet mine as she pulls me back down into a kiss. I don’t keep her waiting much longer, I lift one of my thighs over hers, and straddle it, then drag my hand down between her thighs to her wetness, pushing through silky folds, my own pleasure mounting as Lexa moans deep and loud this time as I move through her. Dragging my hand down to her entrance, I probe experimentally with two fingers, and angling my hip behind my hand and which a gentle push and buck of the hips, slide into her again. Lexa groans as I do, her heads lifts and she kisses me deeply while she kneads my chest hungrily as I start to pick up the pace. I start slow, building her up, letting her get used to the feeling before I gradually increase the speed, still not going to fast, but fast enough to have her panting against my neck, moaning quietly, and then even muttering a quiet curse as my thumb sneaks up to massage her bud in slow tight circles. It doesn’t take long, not long at all for the tension in the Commander’s body to build, her legs (seriously strong) legs are hurting me but I can’t find it in me to care, or tell her to loosen her grip.

 Just when she is on the brink, Lexa’s hand slips down between my legs, her fingers run through my very evident wetness and Lexa lets out a loud primal moan while I, thanks to Lexa’s hand go blank for a full moment. Touching me seems to set Lexa off, her movements become erratic, her walls clutch around me, pulling me into her further, she feels like a flame within my hand, and as I sweep across the bundle of nerves with my thumb, Lexa mounts and peaks, coming apart against my lips, breathing my name on her last spasm, while her own hand works circles around my very responsive centre.

 

I roll off her, exhausted but honestly a little proud of myself. I have a feeling Lexa doesn’t usually give herself to others, I could feel how nervous she was before I touched her. I could almost hear her thinking, but she let me, she gave herself to me and now here she is, satisfied and happy beside me, eyes shut, breathing crazy hard and while I wait patiently for her to come back down. It takes a minute, and I realise that I love looking at her like this, a sheen of sweat on her brow, eyes closed and struggling to catch her breath, her already full lips swollen with kisses, her hair messy and her cheeks flushed. She is… totally exquisite... Heda has always been striking, Lexa has always been beautiful, she is beautiful… its fact, but Lexa, free from responsibility, and drama is _stunning_. Her hard exterior has been checked for the moment, and it’s just her, and me, no people, no problems, just us… and I really like it.

When she catches her breath, Lexa rolls over her turquoise eyes bore into mine as she smiles, until a predatory look comes over that gorgeous face, that crease between her lip and nose crinkles even deeper as those pearly white teeth unsheathe and she props herself up on her elbow beside me. “I hope you have not fatigued yourself too much, Ambassador? We have much work to do. “

Lexa’s sudden cocky attitude catches me off guard, and I am surprised, charmed and chuckle lightly until Lexa quickly pushes herself up, throws a leg over my hips to straddle me, gloriously naked and then all amusement fades. She quirks a sculpted brow at my awed and wanton expression before she leans in, placing one hand on either side of my head and draws me into a totally scorching kiss pulling husky moans from me as her skilled tongue teases mine. Lexa breaks the kiss, and grins at the admittedly embarrassing whine that escapes from me, before she drops her mouth to my chest, kissing her way down, as her hand pushes a breast up Lexa kisses over the sensitive skin before she reaches my nipple and takes it into her mouth. I have no intention of being quiet, but when a LOUD moan breaks into the silent room, I shock myself. Honestly my boobs have never been especially sensitive, and I’m not sure if it’s just Lexa, or what Lexa is doing but every caress, every sweep of her tongue over my nipple shoots straight to my core, and I am totally on edge. I almost see stars when she latches on, sucking hard, while her other pinches and rolls the breast currently unoccupied by her mouth. In a way, I’m kind of stunned by Lexa’s assertiveness, especially considering how this encounter started off, but gone is the shaking girl, and in her place is a woman who knows what she wants, which seems to reduce me to a quivering mess.

My little moans bring happy sighs from the Commander, she worships my breasts, pulling back to cup and look at them reverently before diving back in teasing me more. I’m usually all about the tease, a thing something most of my other lovers seemed not share, but right now I’m literally dying for her to touch me, I’m worked up already, and at this rate, I doubt ill last much longer, teasing or not.

All thoughts cease as Lexa pushes her thigh in between mine and I feel her hot skin press against my core, I am wet, and literally aching, and Lexa moans when she feels me spread against her skin. Lexa bucks her hips in a steady rhythm, both hands on either side of my head, her biceps and stomach flexing with each roll of her hips, and her eyes lock on mine, savouring each detail of my pleasure. I’m lost until Lexa pulls back, lifting herself off me, I open my eyes in surprise as she sits between my spread thighs, urging them further apart, taking a long second to look at me, before she licks her lips and moans something in Trigedasleng, then carefully lifting a leg to slot between mine, until she is sitting almost sideways, between my legs. One of my thighs presses against Lexa’s front and the other her back as she hovers over me, her core hanging inches above my own.  I haven’t done this before, but I think I have an idea of where she is going with this and my mouth goes dry at the thought. Lexa tilts her pelvis towards me, just a little, still raised on her knees, hovering above me. Lexa looks down, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulder as she urges my thighs further apart staring down at my open centre, before she reaches down, spreading my flesh and then slowly, catching my eye, Lexa lowers her core directly onto mine.

The second our wet flesh meets we moan loudly together, I throw my head back and Lexa slides a hand up over her body, squeezing her chest briefly before adjusting our positions. Lexa reaches one hand back behind her to urge one of my thighs to spread wider, and reaches forward with the other hand, to pull my thigh against her chest, anchoring herself to it for stability. Lexa then grinds down, tilting her pelvis towards me. Each minute movement she makes pushes her own sex against mine. We are fused together, the heat is indescribable, the sensation is like _nothing_ I have ever felt, Lexa’s core against mine feels incredible and I swear I can feel every part of her against me.  I need to stop myself from grinding against her, because I know Lexa isn’t ready to start, yet. Finally satisfied with our positioning Lexa locks her gaze with mine, and starts to buck her hips. She grinds down a little harder, a little faster and I curse. “Is this ok Clarke?” I have never felt anything like it, and it’s totally amazing. And I bite my lips a feral moan “Fuck Yes. Don’t stop.”

Lexa grins, “I hadn’t intended to.”

Lexa presses down behind her on my inner thigh and opens me more before she begins to move and I’m lost as I feel her slick flesh slide against mine, touching me and meeting me with the perfect pressure in exactly the right places. I’m moaning freely now, every nudge of her hips is exactly where I need it, the feel of her sex, soft and fleshy and wet against mine is so fucking good, and I just let myself go, moving with her, moaning and sighing her name along with curses and Lexa smiles as I meet her movements,. My eyes are glued to that perfect specimen that rides me, my eyes bounce between the slow movements of those gyrating hips, the flexing toned, defined abs, the drops of sweat that start to bead along that long tattooed back, and between lightly bouncing breasts. Lexa starts slow, closing her eyes as she mutters so herself in Trigedasleng, as overwhelmed as I am by the sensual sensation. Both of us, revel in the feeling of us together, eyes rolling at the slick slide of our folds against one another and gradually Lexa picks up the pace until she is riding me hard and fast, both of us moaning loudly, Lexa’s breath ragged from her relentless pace. I can feel how wet Lexa is, against me and its getting me worked up very quickly I am on the brink, I can feel my legs tightening, my body tensing but just as I’m about to break, Lexa swings her hip out of our lock, and I come back down with a crash as our skin parts and cold air comes rushing in between flushed thighs. My eyes fly open in desperation and confusion, literally having come so close, I want to punch the cocky looking brunette in the arm for stopping. “What the fuck, Lexa!?” This gets me a smirk from Lexa, who simply says “Not yet.”  I grumble some more as she lays down on m, but it’s hard to stay mad when she is kissing along my jawline like that, and whispering a slew of Trigedasleng that I can’t understand in my lust dazed mind.

Maybe it’s a good thing this isn’t over yet I think as Lexa’s lips find mine and her sex presses against my thigh. Lexa urges my thigh apart and slips a calloused hand between them without any preamble at all slips two fingers inside me. A deep primal moan comes out of the Commander’s chest as her fingers slide in, slowly, surely, deep until she is up to the knuckle, lifting her thumb once to graze across my clitoris, making me almost come straight off until she pulls back from the kiss. Lexa’s eyes meet mine and her face is awestruck, her nostrils flare and her eyes flutter as she slips her fingers in slowly, but deeply “You feel… amazing.” My hips lift to give her greater access and she moans again in appreciation before she withdraws her fingers, curling them, twisting them, and then plunging them back in. Each time she does she pushes in harder and a little faster. It’s so good, I can’t speak, I throw my head back an hold her bicep, feeling the iron muscles tense and release as she plunges into me, a little faster each time, until she growls and shifts back a bit, fingers still in place and pushes her shoulders behind my knees, forcing my thighs back and legs wider and then she watches as she starts to pump into me hard and fast, her fingers straightening on ever push, and curling on every pull within me.

I am moaning, fucking lost, unable to make thoughts words, unable to focus on anything other than the _huge_ pressure that’s building again in my core.  It gets more intense when Lexa’s mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking wildly nipping at the soft flesh before turning her attention to the other. All the while her fingers are relentless, pressing into me, curling, pushing against that sweet, sweet spot, fucking me thoroughly. I’ve never been able to come from penetration alone, but this…this is different, my own hips follow Lexa’s hand, chasing it before accepting it as its plunged in again, and I feel myself coiling tighter, and the pressure as Lexa works faster, I’m almost at the brink again, gasping and out of breath when Lexa slows her pace, bringing me back down. This time I’m not disappointed at the change of pace because Lexa is kissing down from my breasts to my stomach and then her fingers are gone, replaced a second later by a skilled and hot tongue delving into me, devouring me completely. Fuck, I thought I couldn’t feel better, but Lexa has had me on edge three times in the space of thirty minutes and as the tongue drags firmly up through me, and the flat of circles my clit before plump lips latch on and lightly suck, my mind stops completely and…. I start screaming.

 

 

Lexa.

 

Pumping between Clarkes legs, I take a moment to ask myself... is this really real?

It was not planned, and never expected, when I came to her room tonight. The last thing I imagined, to ever happen between us, especially after my deplorable behaviour was for her to… reciprocate my feelings. Is she reciprocating my feelings, or is it simply reciprocating my attraction? I do not know, though the weight of possible heartbreak and doubt almost crushes me for a moment, I push it aside and tell myself to live in the moment; I will take what she gives me.

The whole evening is surreal, the moment she pressed her lips to mine I was lost, lost in her kiss, lost in the slow sweep of her tongue, the sweet taste of her mouth, lost in the sighs and whispers she makes. As she leads me back, towards the bed, urging me downwards to sit, I gaze up at her, her glowing hair in the candlelight, her glittering blue eyes that pierce into mine and I am astounded by the sheer beauty of her, those blue eyes blaze, her skin glows, and her eyes hold such bare emotion, that my breath catches in my chest.

She trails her silky fingertips over my skin, raising goosebumps in her wake, and she drags her fingers to the band of my nightdress, and draws it to the side, dropping it from my shoulder, making her already clear intentions, transparent. I am overwhelmed for a moment until those sure and steady blue eyes flicker downwards to the sash around her waist. Clarkes hands go to it, and she raises her eyes back to mine, staring at me, into me, as she opens it, letting the tie fall to the sides, her robe falls open, revealing her nightgown, a rich dark wine colour that accentuates the blonde of her hair, the paleness of her skin, it exposes her legs up until the knee and like mine, the only thing covering her shoulders are two thin bands. It is more of her than I have ever seen, more of her than I thought I would get to see, and though honestly terrified, I desire Clarke like I have never desired anything before.

Wanting this… wanting her, I will myself to take the lead, to claim her, but am stuck, overwhelmed with the fact, the impossibility that the woman I love, the woman I want, wants me back. My hands, the hand of a warrior that never fails in battle, the hands of a warrior that never trembled with fear, the hands of the warrior that has ended the lives of many, trembles with the sheer shock, fear, and yearning. I raise it to her hips, feeling the firm rounded flesh under the thin garb, and even this barest of touches has my already hammering heart beating faster. I urge Clarke down and we kiss, I allow her to lead me back as she lays herself down upon me and. Clarke pushes me back and I go, as she follows, kissing me urgently as she lays herself down upon me. Nerves aside I spur myself into action as our kiss becomes more heated, more desperate and I struggle to master the trepidation I feel to fulfil my most pressing need; to have more of her skin at my disposal. I slip the robe of slender shoulders, revelling in the sweet softness that runs under my hardened fingers, softness that rivals my hardness, unable to contain my satisfaction as I see her skin bared from me as the noise escapes through my lips.

Clarkes hands roam freely over me, each path her hands trace leave being hypersensitive skin, and parts that have not yet been touched aching for her attention. I want to take the same liberty, to let my hands glide where they will, but I am still unsure, still uncertain of my footing and so settle them on her hip and shoulders, anchoring myself to the blonde, who keeps me grounded as her hands make me feel as if I shall fly away. We kiss deeply when Clarkes hand claims my own, pulling both up and draping them around her neck, moaning quietly into my mouth as we kiss. I think I know what she wants, but cannot seem to find the courage I never lack elsewhere to do what she obviously wants me to. We kiss for several more minutes, the blonde writing lightly on top of me, until she lets out a quiet huff against my lips and drags my hands down from her neck, to rest on the point where her shoulder and collarbone meet, before leaning down and kissing me again, moaning freely as my fingers trail over the sensitive skin and her message clear and though nervous, I am all too willing to comply. The more I touch her, the lower my fingers journey the heavier Clarke breathes, and I break the kiss, to be certain, despite the fact I believe it is obvious, that Clarke permits me to touch her. Her ocean eyes find mine, and gaze at me levelly, a challenge in her gaze and I cannot help be slightly amused despite my nerves. Finding my courage, I drop my gaze to those heavy nightgown clad breasts and lick my lips with anticipation before I pull my hands down to them, cupping them through the fabric, feeling the firm, full weight of them against me. When I do, Clarke, forever the sarcastic one, speaks, her voice a low husk and a smirk on her gorgeous face. “Finally”.

I discover quickly, that Clarke’s breasts are something I adore. I have yet to see them, but for now the feel of them is enough to have heat pooling between my legs as I fondle the chest, firm and sculpted, that moulds to my hand, as I touch her through the fabric. I find a hard nipple through the silk, and roll it between my fingers, basking in the sharp intake of breath I draw from the blonde. Clarkes hand slides up easily, her moves sure and she grips me tightly, cupping my entire breast in her hand, moaning as she does so, drawing sighs from me as her hands massage me in a precise and pleasing manner.

We kiss deeply our touches becoming heavier and more infused with longing, our tongues battling for dominance and both of us breathing each other’s moans. This could be enough touching her like this, her touching me like this, it is more than I ever expected and far more than I deserve, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want more.

Clarkes leave my chest and reach down to my thighs, bunching the long fabric of my nightdress, drawing it slowly up ward and I hesitate. This is all completely unexpected and happening very fast, and though I want it I know that Clarke leaves tomorrow, I know I hurt the woman, I know there is much to be said and little time to say it, so as the fabric rises higher o do my worries and the blonde feels me tense from the kiss, her voice playful as she says “Are you ok there, Commander?” I am most unwilling to remove my hand from her chest, but glance up to meet Clarke’s open and considerate gaze, I offer her a small smile of my own, and force myself to say what has been on my mind. “I am very well thank you, Ambassador. But… are you sure you wish to do…this, Clarke? Perhaps we should talk first?

Clarke raises an eyebrow and exhales a short huff, her frustration evident but her tone soft as she looks down at me, pleading with me to understand, her tone cheeky and confident “Yes, Lexa, I am definitely totally sure. Trust me… we have to talk at all.”

 

Finally, my doubts can be laid to rest and I feel my face breaking out into one of my fuller smiles, unable to contain it, as it bursts forth from the joy within. Clarke stares at me, her own smile becoming wider, her eyes twinkling as she says her lo voice, dripping with desire and little more than a rasp “You have a really big smile, you know.”

Honestly, I never really believed Clarke to be the gushing type, it amuses me a little to hear her talk about of all things, my smile and I cannot help but smile a little harder. I try to contain the sweeping blush that erupts at her words, the sudden appearance of butterflies in my stomach but try be casual as I reply coolly “”Do I?”

Clarke leans down, her lips hovering a hairs breath from mine, her eyes trained on what I think is my nose until she says “You do… Like crazy big. And you have this little crease that appears between your nose and top lip that you never get to see unless you’re smiling wide, like this. It’s totally adorable”.

Adorable is not anything anyone has ever called me. Not ever. It is not something I aspire to be, nor want to be and I try to smother the smile that still blazes, summoning a stern Heda who speaks “I am not adorable, Clarke.”

Clarke doesn’t fall for my little display, smirking at my disgruntled tone and saying “I never said you were adorable… I said the crease is.” I try to frown, but fail miserably, my smile only stretching wider and leans in for what I think is a kiss only to be both surprised and a little disgusted when Clarke’s warm, velvety tongue slides across the sensitive strip of skin between my nose and Lip. I pull back, eyes wide to see the laughing blonde, “You’re adorable when you pout too.”

When Clarke looks down at me with those glinting eyes and I decide to wipe that smug smirk of the Skaigirl’s face, reaching down and pulling at the shorter fabric of her nightdress, quickly raising it over hare hips, Clarke raises her arms to help me and a second later she is bare.

Clarke is absolutely breath-taking, and my already rapid breathing becomes faster still as I gaze at her. Clarkes long braided hair covers her breasts from my view, and I gently sweep it away. I exhale a sigh of pure want finally seeing the full, rounded peaks marked with a pink nipple, and the sight of them makes my mouth water. Clarke’s breasts sway with every heavy breath she takes, her figure is perfection, she possesses beautiful rounded hips, a tapered waist and full breasts. Clarke’s stomach is flat but soft, and between her legs is a thatch of light blonde curls that I consciously must resist dropping my hands to immediately. Her skin is pale and glows in the flickering candlelight, my voice catches as I speak “Clarke… you are so… so beautiful.”

A second later Clarke is leaning forward and grasping my nightgown, pulling it up and over my head, leaving us skin to skin, and Clarke lets her gaze rove over my body hungrily. Wow.” Looking at Clarke, I feel desire, and though I am not ashamed of my body, I have a trouble believing my hardened frame could ignite the passions that Clarke’s does. Do not misunderstand me I am proud, of my body, proud of how strong it is, what it can do, what it can endure, but my body is maximised for function. I am hard, toughened by years of training, marked with too many scars to bear counting, and the woman before me is so feminine, she is absolute perfection. I am not truly insecure, merely daunted at the prospect of someone else seeing me like this, seeing my scars and I try to remember what Costia told me years ago, “Lexa, each mark on you is special. Each scar you have is a mark of victory, victory in battle and victory that you still live, another day.”

 

 Clarke’s hands glide over my body, I try to calm my breathing, succeeding until Clarke’s fingers find one of my largest scars, one I bear from one of my closest brushes with death. Clarke follows the long, thin line with her finger, tracing it and though it feels good I am unable to gauge her reaction, so I speak trying to sound nonchalant as I do, but not likely succeeding “I hope they do not bother you too much, Clarke. I know they are unsightly, but they are marks of battles won, and another day lived.”

Clarkes brow scrunches and for a moment I am unsure, until Clarke reaches back and traces the scar again, tracing its path as she speaks, her voice full of conviction “Lexa, you’re beautiful, they’re beautiful… all of you is beautiful.” My body relaxes and I smile, leaning up and capturing Clarke’s sweet lips in a kiss that is softer than before, but a kiss that still fans the flames the smouldering desire that builds between is. Clarke moves to lay her naked body on top of mine, her soft breasts crush against my own, and her hardened nipples pressing against the tender peaks of my own bosom. Her smooth, firm belly lays upon my own hard one, and then she urges my thighs apart, inserting a strong thigh between them, pushing up and against my intimate zone, brushing against the soft hair that covers it, and I cannot help myself as I begin to shake again.

 

Clarke places her hands move slowly over me, trailing downwards unhurriedly, but purposefully and I hesitate, wondering if I should stop her. Intimately touching the Commander is sacred to my people, of course we lay with others, but more often than not, they do not lay with us. To be Heda is to be alone and letting others touch us is an act we seldom commit to, and a privilege I only permitted Costia, shortly before her death. I pause looking into the certain ocean eyes that gaze at me levelly and the hand slows, but still continues its journey. Honestly, I want it, I want her, I want her to touch me if she wants to, which she evidently does. If this is the only time we are to lay together, I do not want to have regrets, and if sleeping with a Heda is sacred, it cannot be anything more sacred than the reverence I feel for the body of Clarke. I think it over, as her fingers drift closer to their prize, stopping just slightly above my cleft to pause on the patch of hair… Clarke waits, she waits for my permission. Clarke looks so sincere, and so patient, and I know if I do not give her the permission she seeks, she will accept my decision without argument. Yet she also looks heated, her eyes are blown, her breathing heavy and I can see she wants me, she wants me to want this… and I do.  Decided, I take a breath and nod once. Clarke smiles as her hand finally reaches down, and cups me completely. As her fingers glide through my slick slit, I find I cannot breathe, my hips lurch up of their own accord and I exhale a shaky breathe, my eyes on Clarke who has a look of sheer unabashed pleasure on her face, eyes closed as she whispers, her voice a low raspy moan “Fuck… yes.”

Her blue eyes fly open and find mine and they are darker than I have ever seen them, her hand slides through me smoothly, down to where I ache for her, until she drags her fingers back up, eliciting another wild buck from my hips. , I try to stay in control, to keep my eyes open, not to yield to the feeling, not to cry out, but despite myself a low whine slips from my throat. Clarke drinks me in as she touches me, registering every expression that crosses my face and continues her movements before she brings her fingers up and traces a wide circle around my sensitive bud, testing me. Her ministrations are threatening my control and I cannot stop my eyes from closing. I try to contain it, the wave of _want_ that consumes me, but Clarke’s husky voice cuts through my resolve as she utters a low “Lexa… Lexa look at me.” I have never been able to resist her anything, and my eyes fly open to meet the almost opaque glare of the blonde who speaks, her voice a low, hoarse command “Don’t hold back.”

Heda or not, Clarke’s voice, so heavy with lust is enough for me to relinquish my reservations. It is the point I decide to surrender myself to her, to yield to my desire, and to let her have me, should she want me. I nod, letting go, embracing the feeling and moving my thighs apart, hers for the taking, leaning up to kiss the blonde before I should have a chance to doubt myself. Clarke moans against my lips, kissing me voraciously, sucking on my tongue as she runs through me again, and sliding against my wet flesh, drawing soft cries from my newly liberated chest. When she presses forward and one slick finger enters me, my mind goes blank my body tenses and a jolt of pure pleasure jolts from my core to run through my body as Clarkes finger delves deeper. I wrap my thighs around her, anchoring myself to Clarke’s smooth back, mindful of my strength, careful not to hold her too tight. A second later, she slips from me, her absence causing me to lift my head, a puzzled and frustrated sound coming from my throat as the blonde asks me, fingers hovering above my pulsing flesh “Are you good commander?.”

I am in no mood to be teased, I meet her cocky smirk and almost growl, _burning_ for her “I am more than well, Clarke.” I have no patience for her amused smile and light laugh so I seize her, possibly harder than I need to and crash my lips against hers, my tongue plundering her mouth, my hips forcing upwards against hers. I don’t have to wait for long, Clarkes hand slides through me again before her fingers slide down and to fingers push lightly against my entrance, before a firm hip presses them deeper, my flesh yields to her, and accepts her with relief.

I couldn’t contain my sounds if I tried as Clarke’s hips move in time with that searching hand, slow until she builds to a steady rhythm, my own hips working with her, leaving me hanging on the edge far too fast. When Clarke’s thumb sneaks up through my slick folds, and her fingers slowly massage my inner walls, my eyes roll back in my head, my thighs tighten and quake and that mounting pressure becomes unbearable. I teeter on the edge for far too long, unwilling to fall over, not before I have felt her. Unable to hold on much longer I quickly slip a hand down through our bodies and over that tight patch of curls and bury my fingers in Clarke’s drenched heat. The feel of her against mu hand throws me over the edge in a second, the tension breaking throughout my body, the waves of pleasure wracking through me, each wave stronger than the last.

The moment my spasms stop, Clarke’s hand slips from enflamed flesh and she rolls from on top of me letting me to catch my breath. My release is the first for years, the first since Costia, and it leaves me weak for a moment, unable to move as I struggle to quell the tensing muscles and my flooding emotions. Finally fully returned to myself I turn to the blonde, who to my surprise has been studying me with some intensity and note the unabashed look of pride on her face. It makes me smile and as I let my eyes trail over Clarke’s exquisite body, I decide… it is time to make her mine. I look over to the flushed blonde and raise myself onto my elbow and ask her playfully, “I hope you have not fatigued yourself too much, Ambassador? We have much work to do.“

 

Clarke’s eyes crinkle and a slow wide smile breaks across that face, the husky chuckle that erupts from her chest is enrapturing and I cannot contain my want or her any longer. I move quickly, throwing a leg over hers, and planting my arms on each side of that gorgeous face, Clarkes smile faces, her breathing hitches, as her pupils stretch, and my heart swells at how much she seems to want me. I bend and capture Clarke’s lips until her breathing becomes ragged, I smile at her disappointment when I break the kiss, but slip a little down her body, bringing my face level with her chest, absorbing every detail of the glorious mounds, noting a lone freckle that marks her left breast, a little way off from the nipple. I cup her heavy breasts, bringing them together as I begin to lavish kisses on the soft peaks, before I draw a pink nipple into my mouth, feeling it tighten between my lips as my other hand rolls against the other breast, pinching and circling lightly over her hard nipple. The sounds of pleasure Clarke makes almost caress me physically. I feel a steady tingle erupting again between my legs, a new flush of moisture that gathers as each lave of Clarke’s breast gains me a hoarse, ragged moan. I push my thigh between hers and feel Clarke’s desire pool against my skin, eliciting a moan of my own and then, holding myself up, looking down to the blondes face, I begin to buck my hips. Watching her reaction, absorbing her moans revelling in the feeling of Clarke’s sex press against me, spreading more of her arousal across my hot skin. I continue for several minutes, until with each buck of my hips her body tenses and I feel like I have teased her enough.

Pulling back I shift a little further down and insert myself between strong thighs. I cannot help the steady flow of curses that slip from me in my native tongue as I place my hands on her knees and gently urge her apart. I take a moment to absorb the sight of her glistening cleft parting, the flushed and enticing flesh, inhaling her heady aroma before the burning in my own sex spurs me into action. Pushing her legs further apart, I raise myself to my knees before I turn sideways, parallel to Clarke’s thighs, and then carefully slot my legs between Clarke’s own. I am still raised on my knees hovering over the blonde observing the hungry look she gives me as I hover over her, a look I’m sure that is mirrored on my own face. Gazing down at the girl’s open, flushed core, I reach down to spread her a little wider, and then glancing up, catching blue eyes, I slowly lower my sex against her blazing heat.

The moment contact is made, the coiling in my stomach begins again. Clarke is so wet, so warm, so soft against me I am on edge already. I lean back, pushing one of Clarke’s legs wider giving me more room to move and then I reach forward for Clarke’s other, the anchoring myself to the sturdy smooth thigh for balance. Finally satisfied, I let my eyes flutter closed a moment as I grind down experimentally, my hips rolling, and my sex hard-pressed against hers. I raise my gaze to the blonde, who stares at me wide eyed, chest heaving, bucking slowly against her “Is this ok Clarke?”

Her response is a strangled moan and gruff “Fuck Yes. Don’t stop.” And it is all the encouragement I needed, to begin. I smile as my hips buck with more force “I hadn’t intended to.”

I begin to move in short purposeful sweeps of my hips, lifting slightly to gain more friction between us, and I feel Clarke’s inundated flesh brush against mine as I move. We meet each other perfectly, every nudge of our hips connecting, sending shockwaves through each of us. I never look from the blonde, who cries out, her voice ragged and low. She looks stunning as sweat breaks out on her brow, her body glistens and a single drop of perspiration runs down between bouncing breasts. Every swing of my hips causes the fleshy mounds to sway, their movements hypnotise me as I move with increasing speed.

I start slow, but it feels too good to resist, I move harder, faster, as Clarkes own hips clashing with my own. I get lost in the feeling of her, in the sounds she makes, I cannot contain my own moans of pleasure or the steady stream of curses and pleas in my native tongue. Our movements speed up, until it is almost brutal, I teeter on the edge before I realise Clarke is there too and without thinking I pull back, disengaging our legs, putting cold air and space between our flushed and wanting sexes.

Clarke’s head snaps up, a look of pure pain and confusion on her face as she rasps “What the fuck, Lexa!?” My own sex laments, I had been as close to the edge as she was, but I don’t regret it. I have much more in mind, many more pleasures to pursue. “Not yet.” 

I lean down and kiss the flushed blonde, dragging my lips across her jaw as I whispering my intentions in Trigadesleng, english impossible in my high state of arousal, I know likely she will not understand, but decide to make it my business to show her. I mount a strong thigh, my own sex finding some release against her firm skin and then drop my hand, sliding through Clarke’s copious arousal, drugged on the feeling of her against my hand. I reach her entrance and firmly slip two fingers within her as deep as I can into the woman.  She feels amazing, and I tell her so, for having her clench around my fingers, feeling every tiny twitch and pulse of her walls is another pleasure entirely. I brush her bud once with my thumb, noting the way her muscles clench around my fingers and decide, if I want this to last any amount of time, to steer clear of it. Pulling my fingers from her, I watch them emerge from her slick depths shining and glistening with arousal before I plunge them back in. Clarke moans get higher, a hoarse whine that hitches with every forceful pump of my hand. Watching her life this, her hair spread out life a golden curtain is when I ask myself… is truly happening?  Clarke taking me as a lover is a privilege I never thought I would have, and shall likely never have again. It hurts but I relish the pain, because this, sweet agony, is worth it.

Fighting back sudden tears that spring to my eyes I feel overwhelmed with the need to not just take Clarke but to ravage her. Sliding down a little further, I keep my hand buried in heated depths as I tuck my shoulders behind Clarke’s knees, forcing them up and back, eyes trained on the shining slit that holds my fingers like a vice, and then begin to plunge into her, hard. Clarke’s hips rock to meet my movements, her whines becoming ragged moans. I shift up, hand still working furiously as my mouth latches to a bouncing breast, suckling hard upon her nipple before breaking away with a pop and lavishing the other, while Clarkes hips rise to meet me every time, fast, furious until by the clenching of her around me, I know she once again is close. Clarke is close and it is still not enough not yet, not ceasing, but slowing my movements, I bring her down, still grasping within her, still maintaining her pleasure, but drawing it out. My hand works on, while I begin kissing a hungry path through the valley of her breasts and over her soft, heaving belly, dragging my chin over her light patch of hair, where I pause glancing up to the blonde, who writhes, eyes shut gasping. I lick my lips as I withdraw my fingers from their refuge, exhaling a deep moan as I lean forward and let my tongue slide through the intoxicating arousal. The second my tongue touches her, it is all the ecstasy I need to push me over the edge, my hips buck against the bed as my mind is overwhelmed with the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her against my tongue. I am voracious, feral as I greedily run my tongue through slippery folds, my strong arms holding Clarkes bucking hips to the bed, anchoring her, while the blonde’s noises become wild and loud.

Dragging my tongue upwards through her, dipping and through her depression, I gather all the arousal I can before I slide up and latch my lips to her bud The rolling body, suddenly tenses, the second my lips claim their prize, and when I begin to suck lightly Clarke’s hips fight to lift against my grip, Clarkes head slams back and a startlingly load cry erupts from her throat before she almost screams my name as she comes apart against my mouth. My heart soaring I watch her stomach clench and release as I slow but continue my tongues heavy sweeps, Clarke reaches down and gripping my head, holding me as she rides out each wave of her pleasure, and every aftershock that is caused by my insistent tongue.

Clarke’s body tenses once more before she pulls back onto the pillow, exhaling one more soft moan, breathing my name upon her lips.

 

Clarke.

 

 

Never have I felt anything like that. My heart is still hammering, I’m still over whelmed by the strength of the orgasm, by the intensity of the feelings I have for the Commander. The overwhelming love I have for my Heda… for Lexa a woman I shouldn’t want, a woman who shouldn’t be a possibility, and yet here I am.

I look down to where Lexa has laid her head on my thigh, staring at the flesh she was so recently attached to  and I smile, dropping a weak hand, catching her attention, the blush on her cheeks obvious as she is caught in the act. I beckon feebly as I mutter “Come… here.” The second I do green eyes shine and Lexa is up in an instant lying beside me, beaming down at me, looking really far too pleased with herself for my liking. But I was taught to give credit where credit is due so meet her proud smile with a satisfied one and say, my voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, “You are… skilled.”

Lexa actually laughs, the only time I’ve heard it since training with the Niteblidas, it is sweet and light and totally gorgeous, and its then I realise fully, that I am completely head over heels in love with the girl, and I’m done fighting it. As Lexa laughs I’m awestruck, transfixed on her face as the laughs spill from her, I savour the way her green eyes almost close, the way her chest rises and falls as the sound tumbles out. She is stunning, and when she stops, she must misread the odd look on my face because she sobers slightly before saying “As are you, ai tombom. Very skilled, indeed. I had not expected… this… when I came here tonight but I am very happy it happened.” Lexa’s eyes are wide with adoration, she trails a hand down my arm, a shy smile appearing on her face as she laces our fingers together.

I hadn’t expected this either… and I don’t really know where to go from here. Im reluctant to come down from my happy cloud but I know reality is a little bitch waiting at the door. Still I decide to stall a second, my attention caught by the unfamiliar Trigedasleng word. “Whats a tombom?”

Lexa actually blushes a bright red, her green eyes widen with panic before she composes herself and forces herself to answer my question “I… it is…. It is a term of endearment. I am sorry, it just slipped out but if you would rather I do not use it, I shall not.”

I smile, loving how flustered she is, raising an eyebrow before asking her in a teasing tone, “Well… tell me what it is and I’ll tell you if you can use it.”

Wide green eyes gaze into mine, Lexa visibly swallows before she takes a deep breath, dropping her gaze to our joined hands as she mumbles “Gonasleng’s equivalent is My Heart, I believe.” She glances up at me worriedly, and then visibly relaxes a little as I tug her over and place a firm kiss against her lips. “You ARE adorable. _Ai_ tombom” Lexa’s face is such a hilarious mix of emotions in the next few seconds that I actually laugh, her first reaction is indignation, then shock, then happiness, then awe… her jaw literally dropping open a little as she stares at me, gaping.

 

I laugh again and tug her until she is against me, bundling the leader in my arms, and Lexa melts into me, sighing my name happily as her green eyes shine inches from mine. I lean in and give her a kiss, tasting myself on those soft pink lips before I pull back. The candles have started going out, and I know there is not many hours left to this night. I know tomorrow morning one way or another I have to go… I know there is an end to this…to us, in a matter of hours, but I don’t want there to be. If we are going to talk, this is the only time to do it. I sigh before I begin to speak “I didn’t expect this either…” Lexa pauses, she looks like she is physically bracing herself for the worst. Seeing her worry I finish quickly, rubbing a tattooed arm to reassure her “But I’m happy it happened too! Really happy. I… I have been feeling things for you for a while.” Lexa pulls back, eyes wide with surprise “You have?!? Why didn’t you say anything?”

I pause for a second wondering how much I should say, but keeping stuff to ourselves has gotten is into this mess in the first place so I decide to be completely honest. I take a deep breath and sigh “I have. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, or how you felt about me. You didn’t say anything either”

Lexa sighs “I understand. I know, I was a coward… I was unwilling to admit my feelings for fear of losing you, and in not admitting them… I just made things worse.” Lexa runs her fingers across my eyebrows which are undeniably drawn tight in a frown. “I just wish… well I wish you’d told me sooner Lexa.”

Lexa’s face crumples a little. She takes a deep breath and tucks her face into the crook of my neck, mumbling against my skin “I too wish I had, Clarke.” I stare at the ceiling, stroking Lexa’s soft brown hair “So what happens now?” Lexa’s head shoots up, her attention rapt, her eyes “What do you mean?”

I look at her, her eyes study mine with a burning intensity waiting for me to speak “Well I go back tomorrow.” A flash of pain shoots through those turquoise eyes and Lexa looks physically in pain as she says simply “Yes.”

Getting Lexa to talk sometimes is like trying to get blood from a stone but I can see how much it hurts her when I look into her eyes, they tell me everything. “How do you feel about it?”

I see her literally battle for a second, between her self-preservation and wanting to just let it out. After a few heavy breathes between flares nostrils Lexa rolls over to lie on her back beside me, staring up at the ceiling like I do, before she speaks, her voice quiet “Though I know it is my own doing… I… I am heartbroken you are leaving, Clarke. I… I truly regret my actions but recognise that you are leaving because of me, and the way I behaved. Had perhaps I spoken sooner, things might be different, but it is what it is, and I have to accept that. But… but I will miss you.” Lexa takes a deep breath unable to go on for a second, and then her voice breaks as she continues “I _have been_ missing you.”

I turn my face to look at her, I see the tears slide down her cheeks and I can’t stand it. I turn over and lean in, capturing her lips in a forceful kiss before I pull back, brushing the tears from her cheeks as I press more kisses to her quivering lips “I’ve been missing you too, Lexa.”

I watch as more tears gather and fall from those jade pools, debating with myself… thinking about my people, their reaction… thinking about Lexa, and how much I want her, like this… always. I battle it out for a few minutes, my reason, pummelling my heart but eventually I make my decision and speak before I can change my mind, because it’s what I want. “I could come back.”

Lexa looks up at me, disbelief on her face, shaking her head slightly like she doesn’t want to believe her ears. I grasp her cheeks and stare into green eyes fighting off my nerves “I can come back. I still have to go back to Arkadia, I want to actually. I feel ready, and I need to see them, I need to face them… to spend time reconnecting with my people. But after, when I’ve spent time, and things are settled… I can come back… If you want me to?”

This is the question really… what does Lexa want from this… from me? Will she let herself be with me? I know Lexa wants me…that she has feelings for me, I think maybe she loves me… but I know what Lexa thinks about love… and this, us sleeping together, might not necessarily change that.

Lexa doesn’t speak, her face is blank, and I can almost hear the whirring of her mind as it works herself into over drive. I give her a minute to think, just watching her, waiting patiently for her to speak to me. When she does, Lexa, true to herself is blunt and straight to the point, she asks me a question that cuts to the heart of this, of us, she asks me a question that asks me to bear my heart and soul… she asks me a question I’m not sure I want to answer, but that I have to.

“Why?”

I exhale a shaky breath before I respond, and I true to defuse the tension with a little humour that is totally lost on the Commander “Well… if it wasn’t already clear… I totally have the hots for you.” Lexa just blinks at me, waiting for me to continue so I clear my throat, and do “But over the last month I realised something... and what happened tonight just confirmed it.”

Lexa’s voice is so faint I can barely hear it, as her hand clenches mine almost painfully tight as I speak on “My time here with you in Polis… has helped me heal. Even though I came kicking and screaming, I don’t think if you hadn’t brought me here, I would have. I know I arrived broken, angry, hating you, and that I stayed because I had to. Because I didn’t trust you. But a year on things have changed. I’m not who I was before the Mountain but I’m not broken anymore… You betrayed me, but I know you were doing what you thought was right for your people, and though it was hard… I was able to understand eventually… and forgive you for it.”

The moment the word forgiveness comes out of my mouth, it’s like a weight lifts off my shoulders, Lexa gasps, her eyes filling with tears. I can’t stop now, but I’ve started crying too but I need to say this… I need to tell her before I run out of time. The tears run free, down both our faces as I continue, my voice broken “Here in Polis I came to love the city, its people… it felt like home. But the second you weren’t there… the second you were gone…it felt empty. It didn’t feel like home anymore.”

Lexa has started shaking again, small sobs come from her but doesn’t bother trying to contain them “And I know why. Arkadia isn’t home… I don’t think it ever will be after what happened. Polis isn’t home either, but it feels like it… when I’m with you. I realised my home is wherever you are. So I can come back… I’m not sure when. But I can come back if you want me.”

“Clarke.” Her voice comes out a choked sob, I gather her in my arms as she shakes, trying to speak, unable. I know it’s kind of out of the blue, I know she light not be able to let herself love me, an I’m not going to force her hand… if she needs time, I’ll give it to her “Take some time about it Lexa… there is no rush. It’s a lot to take in.”

“C…Clarke” Lexa tries again, she begins to get agitated in my arms, frustrated as her sobs keep heaving, I hold her closer and smooth her hair whispering “Shh.”

 Suddenly Lexa breaks from my embrace and my heart plummets. The Commander sits up, wipes the tears from her eyes and takes a deep steadying breath. My heart squeezes, expecting the worst, expecting Lexa to look at me with Heda’s, eyes, to shut me away again. When Lexa does look at me, all my breath leaves me because when those green eyes meet mine, they blaze. There is no doubt, no fear, and no emptiness. Her eyes blaze with determination, hope, and feeling… taking my hand in hers then she says it. The words that complete everything.

“Ai hod yu in, Clarke. I love you, and it takes as long as it takes, but please come home to me, when you can.”

My heart fills up so fast it feels like its going to explode, I cant speak past the lump in my throat but I manage to nod, and Lexa's face lights up enough to take my breath away. I reach over an pull the brunette to me, Lexa melts into the embrace, her strong arms gripping me so tightly it almost hurts, but not as much as knowing this is the last time she will hold me, for a long while. We don't talk anymore, but let ourselves fall back onto the furs and pillows wrapped in each others arms. ...We are both exhausted, but put off sleeping as long as we can, each of us savoring every second of each other, trying to imprint the feeling of being entwined like this, skin on skin, warm, underneath the soft covers. I am so incredibly happy... even though I'm leaving tomorrow.. even though every thing is a mess, this one thing is certain. Lexa loves me, she wants me, and I want her back. I am so stupidly happy and its a nice feeling, for a change. 

The candles start to die out one by one, and our lashes grow heavy. Lexa tucks herself into the side of my neck, every now and then pursing her lips to give me a light kiss. I can hear her breathing even out, and then catch as she forces herself awake, I cant help but smile even though my own eyes are burning, the lids drag downwards and I realize I should say it now, just in case I won't get the chance again any time soon.

The last flickering candle goes out, and I cant hold sleep off anymore. I nudge Lexa awake gently with a soft kiss to her forehead, and whisper the words " I love you too."

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited. Fluff. Smut. Progress. 
> 
> Lexa and Clarke are back in Polis... at long last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pals! It has been forever! Heads up... I have taken down 3 a and b... felt the storyline got away from me and didnt go in in a direction I wanted. SO I MADE FLUFF. AND SMUT. Cos we all deserve it. 
> 
> This is a continuation directly to Part one and Two so. Hope you like... its senseless smut and fluff. Cos life is hard enough. 
> 
> Also Unbetad... so if ya catch anything off, give me a wee heads up. 
> 
> Keeses.

**Clarke**

 

I’ve been back in Arkadia five months.

 Five very long months.

 The ride back from Polis was a long one, filled with regret and mounting nerves as I made my way towards the metal compound, asking myself; what the hell are you thinking, going back Clarke?  

 I made the ride in silence on top of the black horse I was gifted that morning, flanked by the two guards Lexa had assigned to escort me to the camps outskirts. The steady silence of the forest seemed to ebb the closer I got to camp; the birds singing petered off… even the rustle of the trees seemed to become louder.

 When the Ark finally sprang into view the rusted walls seemed domineering and wrong in the lush green of the surrounding forest and the dread I had been fluttering around in my belly finally landed, and lodged in my gut.

 It felt all wrong… the place, the smell of it, the people. It felt off and I had to consciously deny the urge to turn my horse around set back to Polis, to where things felt right.

 Of course, I didn’t. What I want never seems to really matter… my people were expecting me and as much as I feared seeing everyone again I knew it was something I had to do. So instead I stared ahead and waited as the as the gates were pulled open, screeching as they did. Then I spurred my horse forward and into the camp, keeping my head high and trying to not look as panicked as I felt.

 I rode in,and came to a stop in the middle of the yard, looking around at the people who whispered and stared at me with distrustful eyes.

 I recognized some faces but everyone looked so different from how I remembered them. Time changes people and I guess I looked completely different from the Clarke they knew, back when I was dressed in our clothes from the Ark with my gun slung at my hip.

 Instead I was dressed in light grounder armour; flexible and comfortable to travel in, eyes painted and my hair braided into intricate plaits. I looked like a grounder… and I could see the people in camp didn’t like it… at all.

 

XXX

 

The next five months were filled with reunions, tension and worry.

 I slowly make progress with the people I once called friends and even with everything that has happened between us Raven is who I spend most of my time with. I won’t say she forgives me for Finn… but she gets it. She is sharp, abrasive and funny as hell… and I’m just glad to have her while I’m here.

 Octavia keeps me at arm’s length she friendly enough for the most part. I spend some time with Lincoln, who I love. He is sweet, kind, and loyal… but the kill order and life in Arkadia are taking its toll… people here shun and distrust him and I know he misses life outside the Ark.

 With Bellamy, things are complicated as it quickly became clear that he is not the man I left behind. We can’t even maintain a civil conversation these days because regardless of the fact we have made our peace with Trikru and joined the coalition, he refuses to acknowledge the alliance. He won’t forgive Lexa for what she did, refuses to recognise her as our Commander, he refuses to consider the grounders his allies. He follows Pike around soaks up all his bullshit, just begging for someone to fight. He is so angry… so lost. It’s like he doesn’t know how to be at peace… or he doesn’t want to be.

 Even things with my mom are strained and I know she’s torn, that she wants to reach out to me but doesn’t know how. She doesn't know how because she doesn’t know me anymore.

 I’m not who I was on the Ark. I’m not who I was when I first landed on Earth and I am not who I was when I pulled that lever.

 Abby doesn't understand that I am a product of her actions; my own and of the instinct to survive, to protect. Even if she could understand… she doesn’t want to and we struggle to find common ground… even about the most trivial things.

 Which explains why I am about to lose my freaking mind when I find myself once again in front of her, arguing the same goddam point.

 

“Clarke, we are not doing this again.”

 My attempts to have a reasonable conversation evaporate when dealing with a woman too stubborn to listen to someone who knows better.

 “Mom, I’m telling you for the _last time_ that having Pike around is _dangerous_. You need to deal with the situation and the fact the man is a threat! You can’t just pretend that what happened today was no big deal!.”

 My mother looks at me and her eyes filled with reproach and disappointment. She takes a dramatic sigh before responding; her voice firm as if she is scolding a goddam child “Clarke, that’s not what we do. We aren’t’t those kinds of people. We don’t kill someone because they don’t agree with us-”

 I cut across her, my voice shaking with frustration “Would you actually listen to yourself? Pike has been trying to tear this coalition since the beginning! I’m not saying kill him but jesus!…get him out of here! Send him away before it’s _too late_. You can’t let him stay here, not with Bellamy and the others… its asking for trouble, _you have got to see that_.”

 The words hang between us, the last line almost a plea. My eye twitches as my mother puts a hand on my shoulder, her eyes kind and her voice placating when she croons “Clarke it’s been a year. We are part of the coalition and we’re at peace. What harm can he really do?”

 Words fail me for a second because how can she be. so. fucking. stupid? Is she so freaking blind?

 Doesn’t she see the way Bellamy looks at Lincoln with that slow, narrowed side eye, full of suspicion and anger? Doesn’t she notice how more and more of our people hold their guns close, never straying too far from camp even through as my mom said, “We are at peace?”  Can’t she see how many people drink up Pikes words of dissent? -How he makes them believe that we; the invaders are somehow superior to those who lived on the ground before us? Can’t she see how lost people are? - People like Bellamy, hardened and combative people who feel lost and useless now we are at peace?

 Of course, there is a lot they _could_ be doing.

 Lexa extended an open invitation to any Skaikru warrior willing to join the army’s ranks in Polis, receiving lodgement, training and monthly payments for service but of course Pike called it “serving the enemy” and almost no one has signed up in the last 7 months.

 The terrifying truth is that opinion is starting to divide the camp. Over half are happy with the coalition, with trade, happy to be settled and done with fighting and violence. The other half, which are mainly Pike associates, don’t seem to understand we're doing better within the coalition and refuse to recognise the privilege we’ve been offered to be part of the it.

I’m not biased in saying it’s a privilege… because it is. When the Commander asked Skaikru to become part of the Coalition, we literally had nothing to offer for trade that could benefit them in the short term, not one thing. As of yet Skaikru don’t farm, we hold no land except for those Lexa gave us. We have vehicles but not enough be worth anything to Trikru and we have guns… guns that they refuse to use. The only asset we are to the coalition is our understanding of technology, but even that is not something Lexa could put to use anytime soon.

Regardless, Lexa offered us land, security, peace and upon joining the coalition. She sent wheat, barley, grain, dried meats and fruits, swords, axes, hammers and many other useful tools. Lexa sent us clothes, milk and even livestock and asked for nothing at all in return but loyalty.

 It’s ironic that the bread and eggs Bellamy, Pike and his gang eat every morning come from the chickens and grain Lexa sent us. The stores she sent us saw us through the winter and honesty otherwise we all would have starved, but none of this seems to matter… least of all to Pike. He calls the grounders savages, dangerous…the enemy. Pike chooses to ignore that since joining the Coalition our people are better clothed, better fed and thriving and preferring to spread hate throughout the camp rather than face the visible truth in front of him.

 Things had been going great until Pike started stirring shit and my mom and Kane had been too complacent to take him, or what he could do to our alliance seriously. Their inability to see the world for the way _it really is,_ is the reason why I’m here debating the merits of banishment with a woman who doesn’t really know how much blood was bled to get us to this point, all because she was not person who had to spill it.

 But I was.

 I will never be able to forget how our survival so far has cost the lives of 300 of Lexa’s warriors, Gustus, Anya, 381 people from Mount Weather and god knows how many others. Maybe if my mom had looked someone in the eye and pulled the trigger she wouldn’t take peace so lightly; as if it were the easiest and cheapest thing to come by in the world.

 Exhausted, I shift her hand from my shoulder ignore the pang in my heart when her face falls. I try to be firm when I say “You can be as naive about this as you like but if you think I am going to stand by and let that man undermine everything we have worked for, you’re wrong. Talk to Kane and have him sent away or I’ll have to deal with him myself.”

 Brown eyes widen in shock and she waits a beat before responding. When she does her voice strained and almost frightened when she murmurs, “Clarke... what are you saying?”

I don’t back down, I don’t let her disapproval faze me as I lift my chin and look her dead in the eye “You know exactly what I’m saying.”

 She stares at me horrified, and I hold her gaze a beat before turning and walking out into the infirmary and towards my quarters.

Once thing is certain; things are spiralling out of control in Arkadia and if I can’t get a handle on the situation soon it could put everything Lexa and I have worked on in jeopardy. The solution is not so simple as killing Pike now; he has too much support…his followers would riot.

 What I need to do is gather more support for the Coalition from _within_ Skaikru…but how?

I pace my room anxiously until a spark of inspiration jolts me into action; springing me forward to fling few things into a battered backpack.

 Less than thirty minutes later I’m saddled up and mounted on my horse, on my way to Polis. I’m stressed and anxious, but even so a trickle of excitement at the prospect of seeing Lexa somehow manages to penetrate my dark thoughts. I spur my horse faster; eager to find a solution to this mess, and see Lexa again.

 

 

**Lexa**

Endurance training has been a part of my day for as long as I can remember. It is comprised of a long and rigorous sprint through the undergrowth and while sometimes tedious in its necessity, more often I find the mechanic action of my body’s movement liberating.

Running through the woods I let my feet land lightly on the ground, feeling the pull and stretch of my legs as momentum and burning muscles spur me forward. I blink salty rivets of sweat from my eyes and force my legs to keep up their stride even though my lungs are burning as if on fire, from within.

I am tiring but refuse to lag; instead pushing myself onwards, faster and harder, leaping over fallen branches and urging my feet to carry me lightly through the dense undergrowth. I am silent and the only sound that betrays my presence is the rapid, light huff of my breath, and even that is virtually undetectable.

Today is a good day and for once I find my political responsibilities light; allowing me to extend my ground further and deeper into the forest, away from Polis.

Alone, having shirked of my guards, I enjoy the rare gift solitude and the lack of duties awaiting me in the tower. I allow my thoughts to wander as I run, and as they often do, I find them settling on blue eyes and blonde hair.

 It has been 5 months. 

 

Five months since the last time I saw her; stunning and strong, adorned in grey war paint that made her blue eyes blaze and mounted on a horse that was our cities gift.

 How the crowd cheered for her.

 It saddens me that even now Clarke still doubts herself so deeply; doubts her natural ability to lead worthy leader, that she deserves and inspires loyalty in those who know the worth of a true one. I always knew my people would respect and honour Clarke as a leader, that they would not take for granted her sacrifice and the day of the ceremony my people did me proud.

 The Parting Ceremony was an honour that Wanheda truly merited. Clarke deserved to be recognised for the warrior and leader she is, to see the love and esteem my people have for her. My people chanted Wanheda’s name and cheered for the Skaigona, cheered for peace, for prosperity now the Maunon are gone after decades of suffering.

 I saw in wide blue eyes Clarke's surprise and emotion at the crowd’s response. She so used to reproach and shame, she still has little idea of what her sacrifice meant to thousands. I offered her a slight smile of reassurance before signalling  for silence and stepped forward to make my speech to the people and present Clarke with our cities gift; Fiyanes.

Fiyanes is the strongest, fastest and most intelligent mare to have been broken since my own. The black horse is smart and calm in battle but stubborn, possessing a formidable temper that I knew would no doubt be a match for the mighty Wanheda. Clarke’s face lit up with joy as she rushed to the mare’s side, gently allowing Fiyanes to sniff her hand before raising it cautiously to stroke the horses long neck.

After that there was little time to talk but I watched Clarke ride away that day,  cheered by thousands with my heart filled with pride and hope. Pride at how far the Skaigirl had come, riding tall and proud upon her horse ready to face her demons and hope that one day our fates would once again become entwined. It was a bittersweet moment to let her go, to see how far she had come, to finally have laid my heart bare and had feelings be returned only to watch her leave.

But the night before Clarke had held me close to her chest the night before the ceremony close and promised me she would come back to Polis. She promised she would come back to me… and I trust she will do so, when she can.

Knowing this makes the distance between us easier to bear, but no less painful.

I feel Clarke’s absence in the Capital as poignantly as I did during our month-long estrangement but I know that she is where she needs to be, for now.

While it is true that the incorporation of Skaikru into the clans has been for the most part a success, Pike and his influence are not to be overlooked.  Peace is hard won and easily lost and the man is surely a threat.

Kane while trustworthy, is soft. He does not take the measures necessary to nip Pikes dissent in the bud, and his influence grows stronger each day. Clarke is exactly where she needs to be to monitor the situation, and I know she will work tirelessly to identify repair any cracks in the alliance, ensuring our peoples unity.

I must have been lost in my thoughts for some time but I am tugged back from them by the dryness of mouth and the bitter thirst that in an instant becomes unbearable. I have been running flat out for almost two hours and so I slow to a jog towards the nearby river for a well-deserved drink.

My peace is ruptured by a rustle and a subtle crunch of a misplaced foot and I am on high alert until I recognise the familiar heavy gait, half a second later.

My body reacts as smoothly and easily as it always does; my hand drops to the dagger on my hip and sends it whirling through the air before my target even has a chance to blink.

I smirk as I take in my opponent; a cursing cloaked figure stuck fast to a tree by my dagger that is firmly wedged between the tree’s bark and the intruders back-pack.

 Twenty paces ahead, the trespasser pushes off their hood to reveal a golden head and a beautiful scowling face indignantly spluttering “What the hell, Lexa!?”

A burst of laughter slips from my chest for the first time in months and I don’t try to contain it as unfettered joy takes hold of me as I say “You should consider yourself lucky that no-one else moves with such a lack of grace in the forest Klark Kom Skaikru… It is how I knew you right away and aimed my dagger so. You should know better than to try ambush a Heda in the forest, you could have been killed.”

Clarke tugs at the bag again but it is stuck fast and my smirk grows as she abandons her attempts and waits for me to come to her assistance.  I swagger forward, more amused as she continues to grumble “Seriously Lex…You aren't a fan of surprises, are you?”

I chuckle lightly as I move to her side to pull the dagger free from the bark with one firm tug. Unwilling to make assumptions about our emotional entanglements; I retreat a step and stand with my arms behind my back; letting my eyes hungrily take her in. Clarke is as beautiful as ever even if she looks a little tired. Though she is dressed in the impractical Skaikru garb, I am pleased to see she wears one long braid in her lose blonde locks; proof that she has not forgotten her time in Polis entirely.

I smile, and my voice is low but warm when I murmur “Clarke, I was not expecting you.”

Clarke slips the heavy bag from her shoulders and then straightens up to face me, her eyes bright with excitement and a mischievous grin set firmly in place “Sooo…does that mean you’re not happy to see me?”

My eyes widen and in my rush to respond I realise Clarke is teasing me a second to late as a stream of unguarded feeling slips from me “Of course not, Clarke! You have no idea how much I have wanted to see you but I had simply made my peace that it would not be for quite some time yet.”

Clarke grins wider at my admission and I pink slightly after falling so willingly into her trap. Clarke chuckles, a low husky sound that makes the hair the back of my neck stand on end. My heart hammers as she sweeps a step closer, her voice an octave lower as she states “Good. Because I missed you.”

She steps closer still and I swallow my nerves as she brings her face an inch from mine, hovering teasingly close, her blue eyes flicking between my eyes and lips. My self-restraint wanes and I barely manage to mutter a soft “And I you, Clarke.” before my hand reaches out of its own volition to touch her jawline. Clarke leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed as her soft cheek rests against the rough palm of my hand.

The desire to kiss her is too much and lean forward, feeling Clarke sigh with satisfaction against my lips the moment they touch. The kiss is tempered; held for a long moment before Clarke mouth withdraws, then pushes forward again and it as if a dam breaks between us. She pulls me closer and I anchor myself to her, one hand lost in her hair and the other on the small of her back as she kisses me again; fully.

Clarke moans into the kiss as I open my mouth to sweep my tongue lightly over her lips. She responds in kind, sucking hard on my bottom lip before meeting my tongue with her own. We kiss deeper and more desperately until our breathing is ragged, our bodies burn and our hands begin to mark flaming trails over each other’s bodies.

I am lost somewhere between relief that she is here at all and desire for her entirely. All restraint and reason are thrown to the wind until my hands go to undo the buckle low on Clarke’s waist until she pulls away from the kiss and mutters “Wait.”

The word brings me back to my senses in an instant and my hands fly away from her to hover awkwardly at my sides. I am shamed by my behavior; by my assumption and by my lack of self-control. Flushing with embarrassment, I will the blood away from my cheeks, hoping she does not notice.

We still stand close and I try not to falter under Clarkes searching regard as she studies me. Clarke meets my gaze and smiles reassuringly as she reaches down to seize my hands and loops them back around her waist. Then she presses her forehead against mine and exhales a relieved breath as she murmurs “That’s not what I meant Lexa. You’re allowed to touch me.”

I shudder at her touch, tightening my grip on her hips, struggling to form my question “What is it then, Clarke?”

She does not respond right away but watches the path her hands trace against me; one slips from my hip to my lower back, while the other drags upwards to trail a thumb under my left breast. Longing still hangs thick between us but after a moment Clarke shakes her head and her hands cease their wanderings. Clarke takes a deep breath and determined blue eyes lock onto my own. “We need to talk first, Lexa.”

_“Talk.”_

The word is ominous for so many reasons. Immediately my mind leaps from one scenario to another as I step back from Clarke’s embrace and slip into Heda’s posture, regarding her impassively and nodding once in acceptance.

“So, we must talk Clarke Kom Skaikru. Very well… what brings you to Polis?”

Clarke’s eyes look stormy for a moment at my sudden distance and after a moment of silence she sighs and mutters “We have a problem.”

I know what it is before Clarke even speaks it. I feel my jaw lock in irritation as I hiss “Pike.”

Clarke nods cautiously and her tone is grim as she reluctantly elaborates “Yes. There’s been talk of calling for an election in Arkadia… Pike wants to run and…well, he could get the votes, Lexa.”

My eyes flicker closed for a moment while I struggle for calm and patience, irritated that my delight in seeing Clarke has once again been marred by the sheer idiocy of Skaikru.

Skaikru; the clan that is its own worst enemy; comprised of an entitled group of branwadas that are entirely useless on the ground but for their ability to wield the old technologies. The clan who know nothing of this Earth but seek to claim it as their own are a constant source of difficulty.

Despite our efforts to make amends, become allies and to finally incorporate Skaikru as one of our own within the coalition, we are met with resistance on every turn. The leaders of other Clans are fast running out of patience and the small Clan is proving to be far more trouble than one could argue, they are worth.

Of course, there are some exceptions within the Kru; gonas such as Octavia, Clarke, Raven, Kane, Murphy and others have incorporated nicely…but not all of Skaikru has, and that is the problem.  The clan is divided and there are too many heads to follow, each moving in a different direction, creating discord and dissent among their ranks.

Once again I find myself questioning my decision to be so accommodating to the clan but when I see the anxiety in Clarke’s I manage to reign in my anger. With a deep breath, I ask as reasonably as I can “I thought Kane was your elected leader?”

Clarke watches me as she carefully responds “That’s true, but while a Heda can only be removed by a vote of no confidence by the Clan leaders, our leader can be voted out by the people, even after election.”

“Ridiculous”, I think to myself. “Thoroughly ridiculous”. The words may not leave my mouth but Clarke reads it among my features like no one else can and she sighs as she waits for me to respond and I try for a patience that is worn far too thin.

“I see. Are your people unhappy with Kane as leader? I had thought him adept.”

Clarke looks exhausted as she says “It’s a little more complicated than that Lexa but…yes Kane is a good leader. The problem is that our people aren't like the grounders. It doesn't only matter how effective a leader is, but it matters how popular they are too…”

Clarke notes my glower and holds up a hand to silence me before my inevitable outburst. “It has its flaws, Lexa…I know. Our people are new to Earth, they're vulnerable and afraid so it’s not difficult for Pike to cause problems, to shake Kane’s support… rile up bad feelings especially about the grounders. Pike is taking advantage of that.”

Tension lies heavy in the silence between us, and each of us glares a the other… the familiar stalemate is painful to bear against the torrent of emotion that lies beneath. Again I wonder why have the fates have set me at odds so often with the woman I love so dearly? Why does it seem that people and duty ceaselessly seek to drive us apart?

My glare fades as fatigue sets in and  seeing a flicker of pain in Clarkes eyes I sigh miserably “Clarke, I do not know what else we can do. My people are trying to accommodate you, _I am_ trying to accommodate you but Skaikru is making it exceedingly difficult.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow and her eyes narrow as she stubbornly declares “Skaikru are _your_ people.” Even in my misery Clarke’s hypocrisy is a slap to the face and as happy as I am to see her, I shall not let it go unaddressed.

My voice goes hard and Heda's voice is cold as I state the bare facts. “Clarke, I will not get pulled into an argument about this. You yourself have just referred to _us_ as “grounders” in one breath while claiming to be one of our peoples in the next! You know that I have  _vowed_ to you that I would protect Skaikru. And I have done my best to uphold that promise. I have invited you all in to our coalition and have done nothing since your joining but support and provide for you all. Despite peoples attitudes and resistance I continue to try and work with your clan time and time again, only to have it all thrown it back in my face.”

Clarke meets my fiery glare with one of her own, her chin is raised and her shoulders are squared as the weight of my words fall between us. Seconds pass until Clarke begins to visibly soften, uncrossing her arms and taking a step towards me. My blood still thrums with hurt and outrage but her blue eyes are apologetic when she sighs “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just want this to work, Lexa.”

My tone is less harsh but still cold when I reply, “As do I, Clarke.”

Clarke nods despondently before stepping back, bending to pick up her heavy bag and slinging it over her shoulder. We look at each other a moment before Clarke shoots me a half-hearted smile and tries to reassure me “Look, I’m here to handle it ok? … I’ll do whatever I have to do to fix this.”

I review her from Heda’s perspective for a moment- distancing my heart from my head. I take in the stormy eyes and determined set of her mouth, I weigh her words and decide to trust her on this. I nod once and see Clarke release a relieved breath and despite my attempts to remain emotionally closed, my heart screams at me to go to her. I ignore it, taking strength in my role as Heda and reply diplomatically. “Very well, Clarke. I will leave things with you for the time being, but I expect to be kept up to date with any developments. Will you be staying in Polis for long?

Clarke regards me with what I can only identify as disappointment. I can tell she is displeased with my reply but I am Heda first and foremost. I cannot let my feelings for her cloud my judgement on the matter, but all the same… I am not entirely unaffected. My heart twists when she takes a deep breath, dropping her gaze to her feet as she says “Well, I thought I would stay in Polis for a day or two and catch up with the Skaikru there. I’ll talk with them about what’s happening back at camp, and secure their votes should it come to that.”

I let some warmth seep back into my tone, as both I and Heda speak sincerely as one “As always, you are welcome in Polis, Klark Kom Skaikru.”

A tiny flicker of light returns to Clarkes eyes and a small, grateful smile quirks a corner of her mouth when she says “Thanks, Lexa”  
I smile in return as I step forward to tug her heavy pack from her shoulder, and slip it onto my own. I shrug off her protestations gesture for her to move forward as I say “You are welcome, Clarke. Now, let me escort you the rest of the way to the Capital.”

 

 

XXX

 

**Clarke**

 

When I saw the city appear from behind the thick forest, I felt a dizzying rush of happiness. There is something about Polis that feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived before and despite the circumstances, I’m glad to be back. Lexa's chest is warm against my back, and she happily leads the horse after after pulling rank during a brief dispute, of who is leading who home. I ask her to drop me off at the city’s outskirts so I can keep a low profile and start seeking out the Skaikru living Polis, unwilling to lose time with inevitable fuss if everyone knows i'm back.

When we first joined the coalition, Skaikru were offered the opportunity to travel to Polis and learn useful skills the grounders deemed invaluable. Only a handful had actually taken Lexa up on the offer, but those who did were either taken on as apprentices in Polis trades; learning useful skills like carpentry, metal working and leather work. Others had opted to begin training with Trikrus Gona’s and Indra seemed pleased so far with their progress.

I find them one by one and ask about their experiences in Polis, their opinions on grounder customs and culture, and I find their points of view on life in the capital are unanimous. While each of them agree that initially grounders can be suspicious, wary and hard to get to know, once they accept you they are fair, hospitable and even friendly.

After listening to them all, I explain how things are changing in Arkadia which causes outrage at first… and then fear. Fear because they know as well as I do, that Pike has a real chance of winning this election. We all know that if Pike wins, he will destroy everything we have worked for, he will destroy the lives the Skaikru have made for themselves in Polis, and break the peace that was so hard won. Each of them promise me their vote and agree to return to Arkadia to try and talk some sense into the people at the camp.

By the time I finish, the sun is long set but the day has been successful. I have secured 33 votes, and rallied solid support against Pike and his lies but there is still a long uphill struggle to face when I get back to the camp. I’m exhausted when I arrive back to the tower after midnight and my brain completely disengages when I step into the lift and wait to be pulled up to my quarters.

When we eventually arrive, I track the familiar path to my old bedroom; opening the doors with a happy sigh and it's exactly like I remember it. My large bed is pilled with thick fur with a nightdress set on top. A small bundle of art supplies and paper sits beside it. My heart squeezes because each of this little details are Lexa's addition. Smiling, I take a deep breath and I instantly feel grounded for the first time in months. I'm home.

As always a basin filled with fresh water is waiting for me and after such a long day of hard travel I'm itching to scrub away the grime and change into the clean nightdress folded upon my bed. 

Twenty minutes later, I'm clean and tired, staring down indecisively at my bed.

I'm exhausted but its hard to bring myself to getting into bed when I know Lexa is in her room, alone. I feel kind of weird about just calling to her room after 5 months like nothing between us has changed, especially after our disagreement this morning but then again when we kissed today it was electric… alive… and real. I’m pretty sure we would have ended up having sex in that forest if I hadn’t insisted on talking to her first…( I had some serious will power) so maybe it wouldn’t be such a forward move to just… call in on her? It’s not like I am expecting anything to happen after all… I just want to see her before going asleep.

I’m out of the room before I know it; silently padding down the corridors towards Lexa’s bedroom.

When I reach her familiar large, ornate door I slip my fingers around the handle and open the door slowly, not wanting to wake her if she is sleeping. I push it open quietly, squinting through the dim chamber that is still lit by a single candle.

I let out and indignant squeak when I’m caught completely off guard when a figure as silent as a ghost that ambushes me from behind; slipping a strong arm around my neck and pressing their body tight against me.

Lexa’s amused breathe tickles my ears as she whispers “Clarke. You move with the stealth of a blundering bear.”

 I roll my eyes, not even bothering to struggle in her iron grip that is tight enough to hold, but not hurt me.  Though I try to hide it, I can’t help smiling when I grumble “Lexa, I came here to _see you,_ not sneak upon you. I wasn’t even _trying_ to be stealthy.”

She chuckles and her hold releases as she moves to stand in front of me. Lexa is smiling one of her trademark barely-there smiles; her face is clean of Kohl and paint and her hair is loose, spilling in wild curls that fall far past her shoulders. She is wearing a torn green shirt and her long legs are almost completely bare in the tiny grey shorts that she wears on her lower half.

Heda is always striking and Lexa is always beautiful but the woman is my most favourite like this; late at night when then tower is asleep. Stripped of her armour, her paint and poise… stripped of Heda.

We look at each other in the candlelight for a long time and I notice the subtle changes taking place in the leader; Lexa’s eyes darken and her breathing is controlled as she tries to keep her composure. Her longing is so obvious but I don’t plan to make this easy on her. After a long standoff hoping the other would break, Lexa eventually clears her throat and asks politely “How did the meeting go with the members of Skaikru here in Polis?”

I’m not here to talk about the meeting and we both know it but I decide to play along, my voice husky when I reply slowly “It was fine, they all seem pretty happy.”

Lexa studies me with dark eyes and silence stretches between us until she murmurs curiously “You are in my chambers, Clarke.”

It is not a question and the tone of her voice turns my legs to jelly, but I am not going to let her know the effect she has on me just yet. I manage to play it cool as I shoot back a nonchalant “I am.”

Lexa doesn't say anything in reply but steps forward into my space- a small smile lifts the corner of her mouth as she notices my sharp intake of breath. She raises a hand and gently trails a calloused finger down the column of my neck.

My eyes flutter closed and I moan when her breathe tickles my ear, her voice is uncharacteristically provocative when she mutters “Did you really come all the way here to discuss politics, at this time of night?”

Lexa’s dark eyes glitter with mischief when my eyes open. Fuck. Despite the burning that’s raging between my legs my ego absolutely refuses to give Lexa the satisfaction of admitting why I’m really here…what I came for.

With some difficulty, I swallow the thirst; shrugging of a shoulder as toss out an casual “I thought just I should let you know… After all, you did say I was to keep you informed, Heda”.

Lexa’s eyes narrow as she stares me down. I can’t hide the smirk that appears when dark green eyes drop to my lips, and stay there. My ego flares because I’m sure I have got to her; I’m sure she surge and kiss me and I can’t wait. Of course… Lexa has to make things harder because instead of kissing me she pauses and nods once, before taking a quick step back. The air around me feels robbed of her heat and I wonder how Lexa’s voice is totally composed when she quips “I see. I thank you for the information, Ambassador. Now… I really should let you get to bed, you have had a long day.”

She is seriously calling my bluff. Jade eyes dance with amusement as she watches me struggle. Part of me really does consider turning around and walking out the door for pride’s sake, but the bigger part of me screams at me to just quit the freaking games and _kiss her_.

I’m battle it out a moment, undecided until a poorly contained smile starts to erupt across Lexa’s face. A rare, true smile from Lexa is a marvellous thing, unsheathing straight white teeth that lie beneath full pink lips and a crease appears between her nose and top lip, that is beyond adorable. It’s finally that freaking crease that breaks me in the end and sighing my defeat I step boldly back into Lexa’s space, hovering just a couple of inches from her face and whisper “Whose bed?”

Lexa’s her smile fades slowly as she swallows a gulp and lift a slender hand to the huge ornate bed to the left, her eyebrow raised in question.

We move towards each other at the same time; our lips fusing together as our hands fly to anchor themselves on each other hips. It’s messy and a little frantic as both of us push and pull at one another, desperate to be close. I feel Lexa’s mouth open and her tongue slides over mine. Her hands drift over my hips and then lower to anchor onto my butt.

She grips tightly as she moves forward; backing me blindly towards the bed until we reach it, then she is shoving me down onto it, never breaking the kiss.  Her lean body hovers over mine as she pushes down the straps of my shoulders impatiently, half exposing my chest and moaning in pleasure when she sees my breasts freed from the fabric.

Lexa’s pupils are blown and almost completely swallow green as she drops her lips from my throat to my neck; nosing along the column before latching on and placing greedy kisses along the sensitive skin, kisses that are definitely going to mark as her teeth sink in. Calloused hands claim my breasts, rolling and caressing with increasing want as Lexa kisses me harder and deeper; her breath ragged as she sighs quiet sounds of pure lust into my mouth. It feels incredible and my hips move subconsciously and my hands claw at her back.

This is nothing like last time; there are no gentle grazes, no uncertainty nor hesitance. This time when we come together it’s raw; animalistic and filled with a desperate need.  

Our hands tear, hair is pulled and clothes rip as each of us is swallowed whole by the compulsion to take the other. I roughly pull of Lexa’s top, and Lexa’s tries to push my nightgown lower but the fabric hasn’t got enough give. After a couple of seconds of struggle, she lets out a frustrated grunt before grabbing the bunched fabric under my breasts and ripping it apart in one sharp tug.

Lexa tears the whole thing off me and it is probably the single hottest thing I have ever seen and when she looks at me her pupils have swallowed up her whole iris, she is breathing hard when she mutters a low command “Clarke… come here.” I let her push me back into the pillows and watch as she descends quickly down my body, her silky curls tickling me as she moves lower until Lexa is spreading my legs and moaning her appreciation as her tongue slides through me… and fuck.

Fuck… it’s been too long and it feels too freaking good.

I’ve replayed her doing this over the last five months whenever I was alone, frustrated and restless, but nothing could compare to the real thing as Lexa’s tongue pushes itself inside me, working its way in and out as she dedicates herself to bringing me to the edge with incredible speed.

I come way faster than I expect or want to. When Lexa drags her tongue up from where I’m wettest to my clit, I can’t stop the wave that rises and breaks. My body clenches and spasms, I fist my hands into her hair and moan her name god knows how many times as I ride out the rest of the orgasm on her tongue, no doubt half smothering the girl as I do.

When I come down enough to relax my grip on her hair Lexa smiles and kisses me lightly all over the soft skin, mumbling low Trigedasleng as I roll through the after-shocks. I catch my breath before beckoning her upwards and Lexa folds herself into my arms.

My eyes open to meet shining green and a blinding smile that fits unabashedly in place on Lexa’s cheeks. Lexa’s skin is soft and warm, I let my fingers trail up her tattooed spine as I return her grin with my own and mumble “Wow.”

Lexa’s smile grows and turns undeniably cocky as she banters “Yes, Clarke. Wow.”

For the first time in weeks I actually laugh before I pull her down for a kiss; deep and dirty while my hands push down the small shorts at her waist.

Lexa kicks off the fabric and lets me roll her on to her back. She moans softly when I kiss down her long neck to her soft and firm breasts; taking the small tanned nipple in my mouth and sucking it to a hard pebble before moving onto the other. Lexa watches me work. She watches me lick, suck, pull, and kiss her soft skin while I begin a slow grind against her core.

I let her hands guide my movements, her grip fierce on my hips as she urges me faster until she is breathing thick and fast and her lip is caught tight between shining teeth. I feel how wet she is against my thigh, her arousal warm and slick as I slide against her.  

We move together, breathing harsh and moaning loudly until she can’t take it anymore. Lexa’s voice is little more than a whisper against the shell of my ear when she says “Clarke… please.”

As if I could ever deny her.

I keep kissing along her collarbone but shift downwards, lower and lower over rock hard abdominal muscles, to her hips. I drag my teeth from one hip bone to another, enjoying how her hips seem to rise without her realizing; begging me for more.

After a minute my eyes drop and roam over the soft mound before me; barely hidden under a short patch of light brown hair. I breath deep; inhaling the heady aroma that is sex and intrinsically Lexa; a sweet, musky scent that I just want to devour.

After 5 months of dreaming, having her spread before me is enough to kill any intent to tease her. I don’t waste time when I urge Lexa’s thighs apart, unveiling the pink, glistening flesh. Shesits up on her elbows and watches me, she watches every move I make with cloudy, lust darkened eyes and it is… fucking incredible.

When I lean forward and nose the shining flesh Lexa’s eyes flutter shut and her hands move to anchor themselves in my hair.  I fucking love the gentle moans she tries to hold back as I nudge her gently, kissing and nuzzling but not ready to use my tongue just yet. I wait until her moans come freely, until I can feel her arousal has reached its height. Lexa curses in low Trigedasleng when I finally open mouth and drag my tongue through the wetness, losing myself in the taste of her.

She tastes good… really good and I love the feeling of her against me like this. Lexa gasps and her hips buck when I slowly drag through her soft folds with tip of my tongue, moving a firm path through the heavy arousal from the hottest part of her upwards over soft inner lips.

After grazing her clit I drop back down, swirling my tongue around the slight depression of her entrance before moving upwards to circle her clit again.  

I know Lexa is close; the rhythm of her hips starts to stutter as she shamelessly chases the feeling, her moans from before now replaced with ragged cries as she is nearing the edge.  

But I’m not ready to let her come just yet.

When I detach my lips Lexa groans in frustration, raising her head indignantly to gaze at me with dark unfocused eyes. I smirk and kiss her inner thigh, placing a hand on her side and urging her to roll over.

Lexa follows my lead but green eyes stare at me in exasperation and confusion over her shoulder

“Clarke…?” She asks, her voice low and baffled.

Wanting to feel her skin against mine, I lay down on top of her; pressing my breasts to the soft and tattooed skin of her back, aligning my naked hips with her butt, hooked on the feeling of her firm ass against my burning skin.

There is no rush, not this time. I move slow; tracing downwards over the tattoo on her back, down further to rounded, steel buttocks. I still find it crazy how Lexa; someone so soft, smooth and stunning can transform into someone so fierce, lethal and striking. It is a paradox only she could be… and I love it. I love he

I love her.. and I want to show her, so I force myself to keep my progress slow. I let my fingers up the back of Lexa’s thigh, keeping each touch unhurried and light over her tanned skin. I smile when she shudders and trail my fingernails over her back; slowly easing a thigh between hers.

Lexa tries to roll over again but I press her into the mattress gently and murmur “Don’t move.” I push Lexa’s curls to the side, exposing her long neck and chiseled jaw to kiss. When she tries to speak again, more insistently - “Clarke...” I lean in and kiss just below her ear, hushing her with a soft  “Shh” and delight in the shiver and gasp I earn when I try a lazy swing my hips.

I buck against her a couple of more times, enjoying the flex of her against me before I start to slip down a little and pepper kisses down her spine. It’s late and the candles are burning low, but I won’t rush things tonight; especially when Lexa is looking up at me like that over her shoulder. Green eyes blaze and her breath catches as my searching fingers glide up the inside of her thigh, and then up higher until I’m touching her wet, swollen core.

Lexa is so warm, so wet that I take a long minute just savouring the feeling of her against my fingers before I slowly press inwards with two fingers. My fingers slip easily into the tight space and Lexa’s inner muscles squeeze around me like a vice.

She hisses a low moan as I glide into her, her legs widening slightly to give me more access. I scatter her lower back with messy kisses as I push in further, knuckle deep and immobile within her as I savour the feeling of her around my fingers. She groans when I curl them inside her, and a shift of her hips is all the incitement I need to withdraw my two fingers entirely before plunging them into her deeper, stirred by the wet sounds my actions make.

I keep my hand in place shift back to settle onto of my knees behind Lexa, inhaling a sharp gasp when I look down. The view is exquisite, Lexa’s tattoo trails all the way down her back, the intricate designs ending just over her tailbone and I admire the design while I think of what exactly I want to do next. I know what I have in mind… the challenge is to convince her to do it.

After a minute and some impatient wiggles back onto my fingers Lexa to look at me, her expression impatient and confused as she asks “Clarke, what are you doing?

I struggle with how to phrase it for a second before deciding it’s probably better just to get to the point. “Lexa, just raise yourself up on your knees.”

Lexa’s ears turn a light pink as she realises what I mean “Clarke, I don’t think…-”

I smile reassuringly but my voice is hungry when I say “Please? I just wanna try something. I promise if you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

Lexa’s eyes narrow for a second before she heaves a heavy sigh, eases my fingers from her and raises herself onto her elbows and knees, ungraciously muttering “Fine.” as she shifts to get comfortable.

“Fuck! Seriously?! Thank you!! Ok, just tell me if you want to stop, ok?” I can’t help the excited squeal that erupts from me when Lexa tosses me an amused glare and mutters “Yes, Clarke.”

The sight of her on her knees in front of short circuits my brain for a few seconds, but an instant later… I’m ready to start. Lexa is a little tense so I trace soothing circles along her spine and drop my left hand to her entrance, pausing there until she relaxes. When she exhales a heavy breath I slowly push three fingers inwards, and moan as she sucks me up.

Fuck. Having Lexa like this… seeing my fingers buried deep in her shining slit is almost too much. Lexa gasps at the stretch but we take it slow until all three are in to the knuckle. I give her a second to acclimatise, feeling her internal muscles relax around the thickness and when she is ready I give them a slow experimental pump. I’m deeper in her than ever before and the gentle thrust elicits a surprised whine from the leader. I pause, worried it’s too much but Lexa shifts forward and mutters “Again.”

I hum my approval as I shift forward and press myself against the back of my hand, wanting to be close, as close as I can. Wrapping my right hand around to lie on the hard plane of her stomach, I finally start to pump my fingers; palm facing down wards so my fingers graze against her front wall. Lexa curses and drops her head and grips the furs, and then slowly begins to move with me.

I set a slow rhythm to start; pressing my naked hips against Lexa’s backside, feeling her ass contract from every pump of my fingers into her tight, wet, core. Lexa groans as I move, her hips pushing backwards to clash with mine harder and harder until I am pushing as deep inside her as I can. I glance down between us, my eyes widening as I watch my fingers disappear inside her with a wet sound, and then reappear coated in shining arousal.

Lexa is starting to get really worked up and though initially a little tense she seems to have completely relaxed into the position; moving her hips and working with me as she pushes her butt out and back towards me, brushing against my own wet heat. It’s probably the hottest experience of my life so far to date and lose Lexa loses it when press my hip against the back of my hand to add some more force to each thrust; pumping harder, faster.

Lexa is unfettered, free as she accepts my fingers without restraint, egging me on with barely audible pleas of “C..Clarke... faster.”

My eyes drink her in as we move; celebrating each bead of sweat that runs down her neck, the smooth roll of her hips, the noises she makes, the wet sounds of her flesh around my fingers and the intoxicating sweet scent that hangs in the air.

I’m moaning louder than she is… and I can just hope no guards are stationed on Lexa’s floor tonight.  I can feel where my wetness coats Lexa’s skin as each smack her of her butt connects solidly with my clit, coiling that spring tightly inside me again. It wouldn’t usually be enough friction to get me off, but fucking Lexa like this has me so worked up I know that with another few hits against the right spot I won’t be able to stop myself.

I am not the only one who is close; Lexa’s groans are breaking and her inner walls are thick around my fingers, tightening more as our bodies slap together. She moves faster, almost frantically, her gasps desperate as she finally chokes a muffled “Clarke… I…need..-”

I know what she needs, and I’m not going to keep her waiting. I pull my right hand from her hip and slip down over her stomach, down over the moist curls to zone in on the blazing, straining bundle of nerves that lies nestles between her lips.

All it takes are couple rough circles over her clit and one more deep thrust bring her body over the edge. Lexa’s body quakes and spasms as her orgasm hits. Her face is buried in her arms and her cries muffled as her body rocks and bucks. Her slit clenches almost painfully tight around my fingers as she comes and I fight against the resistance of her internal muscles, prolonging her orgasm with a few more slow pumps.

Lexa groans my name one last time, reaching back and holding on to any part of me she can reach as she mumbles unintelligibly into the furs. Gently, I pull my fingers from her warmth and can’t hold a satisfied chuckle when Lexa dramatically flops flat on her belly, groaning as she catches her breath.

With one last kiss on her shoulder I lay down on top of her, exhaling a satisfied sigh as I wrap my arms around her from behind and whisper in her ear “You are so gorgeous”.

Lexa mumbles more nonsense into the furs and I smile and push the clammy hair from where it hides her face. She is stunning; her glowing skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, pink cheeks with her eyes closed as she catches her breath.

I want this for more than tonight. I want this every freaking day, night and whatever in between. I want Lexa.

How can it be possible to hate someone so much at one point and then later not be able to imagine your life without them?

It happened against my will, and my better judgement but the love I have for her is so deep within me; it’s like my love for her has gotten into the marrow of my bones I know something for sure.

It will be Lexa, or no one.

Something within me knows she is it.

 

  **Lexa**

Clarke gently nuzzles between my shoulder blades as the waves keep coming and I am overcome with a rush of love so strong, my heart stutters.  It takes me a second to catch my breath; my body feels loose and warm after my climax. I shift a little so Clarke gives me room to roll and then I turn on to my back and pull Clarke flush against my chest. Blue eyes smile up at me as Clarke presses her ear to my breast, listening to the thrum of my heart that still hammers.

We lie like this for some time, until each of our breaths steadies.

Clarke’s blue eyes do not leave my face and I study her in turn; taking in each line, each freckle, my breath catching as it often does by her beauty. Eventually I lean forward to capture her lips, gently luring her into a kiss that is less frenzied than our last is no less with passionate.

My hands fall to the voluptuously soft and heavy mounds of her breasts, bared and swaying as Clarke gasps while my hands roam. I cup them, rolling an already stiff pink nipple between forefinger and thumb; enjoying the feeling of the small nubs hardening under my touch. Clarke moans on top of me as I twist and roll her flesh; her hips begin to shift unconsciously against my waist, and I feel the warm spread of the evidence of her desire against my skin.

I trail my fingertips over her ribs before slowly dragging them down lower over her soft stomach, lower still until I reach the thicket of short hair, swollen and slick between her lips.

Clarke moans when I let my fingers explore her, dipping into the warmest part of her arousal to collect more of her, and then gently spread her essence all over her centrz until Clarke trembles with want.

My nostrils flare as the scent of her hits me, I feel her get wetter and sigh with satisfaction. I find her gaze before I enter her; pressing three fingers against her and not breaking her stare as I push into her. She mutters a curse and her hips cant, burying me within her until the knuckle. I feel nothing less than awe at the look of pleasure on Clarke’s face and the feeling of her tight, velvet muscles grasped around me, urging me still to savour the feeling of being within her.

Clarke pulls me forward into a desperate kiss, breathing heavily against my lips as her hips begin to stir. She moves in my lap and my fingers slide in and out of her with ease, so much so that I shift to add another, folding them all together, watching Clarke’s eyes fly open in surprise as she slowly slides down onto all four.

I watch her expression; riveted. Clarke’s eyes widen and then slam shut, her brow furrows and her mouth opens as her walls clench around me. I watch her closely and ask, “Clarke. Is this ok?” before daring to move my fingers within her.

Clarke licks her lips lasciviously and nods in assurance and I dare begin to pump my fingers slowly to start with. Her blue eyes open and lock to mine as she starts to move with me, gently at first, but gradually harder and with more speed. Soon she is crying out and bouncing harder upon me, her grip tight upon my shoulder as I suckle a breast and twirl my fingers within her fluttering walls. Her cries grow louder as I pick up my pace, thrusting more forcefully into her on every down stroke of her hips.

Husky calls, slick sounds, and moans of passion spill into the candlelit darkness of my chambers, louder and louder and Clarke is glorious; her hips jerking, her hair flying, chasing the pleasure she so desperately seeks.

I watch her as she moves and the image of her like this to memory. I look down and watch my fingers swallowed and released with a wet symphony, fixated until Clarke is almost frantic in my lap. I look up and her eyes meet mine, and in them I see an unspoken plea. We kiss as I maneuver a thumb to brush her clitoris and the reaction is instantaneous. Clarke’s body grows tighter and tighter with each sweep of my thumb until she freezes in my lap and falls completely silent for a long second. When Clarke comes she almost screams my name as her body spasms, her hips jerking as she both chases and tries to escape my continued attentions.

Clarkes head falls to my shoulder as she continues to twitch in my lap, struggling to catch her breath. I breathe inher smell; the heady mixture of fresh sweat, musk and a faint scent of summer flowers that always seems to cling to her is a stirring mix.

Clarke still sits in my lap exhausted, but satisfied. With a fond kiss to her temple I gently and tilt her onto the mattress, rolling her onto her side. With a free hand, I tug the furs from under our legs to pull them up to cover the almost sleeping blonde. Clarke offers me a sleepy smile and some hushed thanks, scooting nearer to me while I wrap my arms around her from behind, holding her close until her even breaths assure me she is asleep.

The thoughts start hounding me then; Is it foolish of me to want more? More than fleeting, stolen nights? Am I mad to wish for this every day, for the rest of my days?  I know it is almost impossible… but I have never wanted anything for myself as much.

Tears sting when I think of the impossibility of it… at how the fates seem set to keep us apart, Pike just being the latest example of our struggles.

With a sigh, I look down over Clarke’s naked body and then my own, marvelling at how without our clothes, our paint and our titles, we could be anyone. We could belong to anyone.Underneath the trivial differences like language, clothes and culture we are all the same… human. It is a bitter fact that because our current problems are because Pike refuses to see something so fundamental, and he could put everything we worked to accomplish in jeopardy.

I cannot allow it. I cannot allow him to put my people, my alliance or my relationship with Clarke at risk. Now is the time for direct action, before this election takes place.

I could kill him. However, killing him would solve nothing and possibly make him a martyr to his followers of Skaikru. His death would do nothing more than prove what Skaikru fears; strengthening Pikes cause and alienating Skaikru further from the clans. There must be another way…. And I stirred with the beginnings of an idea.

An idea could resolve the situation one and for all.

 

 

**Clarke**

 

The next morning, I reluctantly wake up grumbling against Lexa’s apparent aversion to closing her drapes. My body feels loose and satisfied and despite the early wake up, for the first time in months I’m happy. I roll over to my side with my eyes still closed and let my hand search across the furs for Lexa beside me…but I come up with nothing more than an empty space and cool furs. 

My eyes spring open, squinting against the harsh morning sun to search the room and then fall on Lexa; naked and pacing by the foot of the bed; completely lost in her thoughts.

With a little difficulty, because I’m still half asleep I manage to croak “Lexa… what are you doing? Come back to bed.”

At the sound of my voice Lexa snaps out of her thoughts and turns her head to me, a soft smile quirks the corner mouth but she doesn’t speak or come closer.

Instead she stares at me from the foot of the bed, her strong naked body completely nude, her hair in loose, wild curls about her face and a thoughtful expression on her face.

I push myself upright, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I yawn playfully “Lexa… what’s with you not being in bed? Where are my morning-after cuddles?”

Lexa’s lips twitch with a smile but she stays where she is. She continues to stare at me with a weird look on her face and I start to get anxious.

“Lexa… what’s going on?”

Lexa hesitates a second before lifting her chin and joining her hands behind her back. Her shoulders square and I can see her slip into Heda’s skin… and that can’t be good. My thoughts are racing as I wait for her to speak, and when she does her tone is firm “Clarke… I know it was your plan to return to Arkadia tomorrow… but things have changed and I shall require your presence in Polis for at least another week.”

OK… this is weird. Either Lexa is trying to design ways to get me to stay a little longer or there is a serious problem… and if the problem is what I think it is, it could be catastrophic. I keep my cool, but I’m nervous and my voice is tight when I try to reason “Lexa… you know I need to get back to Arkadia as soon as possible. Things are moving too fast for me to be away for that long-”

Lexa cuts me off, her voice leaving no room for argument when she says “Clarke it is not a request. You will return to Arkadia in a week and you will not be alone. I along with 100 Trikru will be joining you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Fuck.

The Commander marching with 100 warriors can only mean one thing… blood.

Alarm drives me from the bed in a second. I step towards her and stand nose to nose… Looking in her green eyes for any ounce of remorse. Tears sting my eyes and voice is almost broken when I hiss “Lexa… you _swore_ to me… you can’t–“

Lexa’s eyes widen and she reaches for a hand that I wrench out of her grasp. She is uncharacteristically stumbling over her words as she tries but fails to calm me. “Clarke, please- let me explain. Calm down! This is not a bad thing- you have nothing to fear. I have simply realised that perhaps it is time for a different approach to Skaikru’s integration, as our previous attempts have failed!”

I don’t realise I’m shaking until I feel the press of her hands into my shoulders. She rubs them, her green eyes sorry as she shakes her head. “Clarke… I could have explained this better. I didn’t mean to frighten you, I am just so very excited.” I glare at her and am upset, sceptical and wary, still waiting for the other shoe to drop while I try to get my breathing back to normal.

Lexa sees my hesitation and sighs. “Clarke, I swore I would never betray you again… and I never will. You have no need to fear…I have simply had an idea how to neutralise Pike once and for all… an idea that doesn’t require his death.”

Whether it’s been the crazy whirlwind of emotion the last few minutes… or just the fact I never saw a way to resolve the problem without Pike’s death, I have trouble following what she is talking about. Shaking my head impatiently, I mutter “Lexa… what are you talking about?”

Lexa’s jade eyes lock on mine and her words are deliberate when she says “While it is true that there is no denying Pike is a danger, instead killing him to neutralise him as a threat let us just expose his i _gnorance, Clarke_.”

Lexa’s voice is earnest, her eyes are penetrating and alit with excitement when she clasps my shoulders harder “Last night I was struck with an idea, one that I believe will be the key to laying all our problems to rest and insuring our future peace. It is so simple, Clarke! Instead of trying to force Skaikru to adapt at once to life among us, we will instead go to Arkadia and live among you all, learning Skaikru customs and introducing you to ours. We must not seek to erase your culture but rather adapt and incorporate it into ours…  we must show you all the parallels that exist between our two peoples and cement a friendship among us.”

Lexa drops her hands from my shoulders, takes a step back and then strides to a window to gaze out over Polis. She looks focuses and determined and even though my brain is still trying to play catch up the more I hear about what Lexa is planning… the more I think it just might work.

I walk over to her in a daze, settling by her side as we both stand naked and stare at the city beneath us. Lexa turns her face to me after a minute and continues to detail her plan while my brain slips everything into place “I plan to set out within a week, escorting you back to camp and bringing a hundred Trikru who will accompany us and stay in the encampment for a period of 6 months. This time should allow us to learn first-hand Skaikru technology and customs. We will in turn share ours and finally prove that we; the people of the ground and sky are not so vastly different.”

The excitement in Lexa’s eyes fades a little and she glances away. Her voice is softer and hesitant when she murmurs. “Clarke, there is also the added benefit that my plan will mean we have one hundred Trikru within Arkadia’s walls, each trained in combat. They will be the coalitions first line of security should Pike try to stage a coup, should it have come to that.”

 “Lexa.”

 “Clarke… it will not come to that… I will do the most I can to see that it doesn’t.”

 “Lexa... I-..” Words fail me as Lexa turns to me, her eyes guarded and her shoulders low…obviously expecting some kind of rebuke for the darker side to her plan. It may be a little harsh but the truth is it is necessary and it’s genius.

If we really try this plan and it doesn’t work it will mean war with Pike and his gang… and I’m ok with that. We will have fought for peace, we will have done all we can and nothing is worth risking the security of the entire coalition, including the Skaikru that are with us to keep appeasing a group of thugs that will keep throwing it in our face.

Lexa jumps in surprise when reach out for her hand, looking her in the eye and murmuring “Lexa… I… I think its genius.”

A smile erupts on her face in a second and she exhales a relieved breath before she continues, as enthusiastic as she was minutes before “Do you think so, Clarke? I think it might work… and going to Arkadia will be good for me. As the thirteenth Clan, Skaikru like it or not are my people and I am their Commander yet I have had very little direct contact with many of them. A fact that is unacceptable. To rectify this, I myself plan to stay in Arkadia for a month and attempt to build relationship with Skaikru as best I can. While may not forgive, nor trust me after my actions at Mount Weather perhaps if they were given the chance to see how I lead outside of war…we could reach a mutual understanding. Hopefully some time with us, on Skaikru’s own territory will be enough to educate each other, strengthen this alliance and forge friendships.”

I’m relieved, touched at how hard Lexa is trying to work with us all and excited as hell because it just might succeed.

I look at Lexa, standing before me; young regardless of the title she bares, naked, honest and earnest. Once again, I’m completely dazed by the fact this girl is a leader of nations; smart, noble, strong and selfless.

I’m in awe of her. Proud of her… and so fucking in love with her.

My eyes are filling with tears when I pull her into a hug, half strangling her as she laughs against the skin of my shoulder. I pull back, and look at her wide eyed as I splutter “You are actually… just…wow. Lexa… This is going to work.”

Lexa drapes her arms around my shoulders, her smile radiating with poorly contained pride as she jokes “Yes, Clarke… I think it might. Let’s just hope all Skaikru are not as stubborn as you, because that would be a war we could never win”.

The crease appears over hip top lip and her eyes light up as she teases me. My heart squeezes almost painfully until I drag her close and kiss her until were both out of breath. When we pull apart I smile at her pink cheeks and laugh happily because the Commander of the 13 clans looks dazed, pleased and thoroughly ravished.

I laugh until Lexa finally starts to laugh along with me, her question almost lost in a fit of giggles “What is it, Clarke?”

I chuckle a little longer, but it fades when I tuck an errant curl behind her ear. Smiling, I look Lexa in the eye and whisper “I just… I love you, Lexa.”

I swear I watch her catch her breath and green eyes widen before she grins and pulls me close, pressing her forehead to mine. We look at each other happily, and Lexa’s smile is infectious. “I hod yu in, Clarke. Otaim.”

My heart is so freaking happy.

“So, Lexa… we have a week here…together?”

Lexa smiles but rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Yes, Clarke. A week for working. We have much to prepare.”

I glance towards the bed and toss Lexa a sultry grin. “I guess we shouldn’t waste our time before the tower wakes up then, don’t you think Heda?”

Lexa’s eyes go wide as she follows me to the bed and swallows a gulp. “I absolutely agree, Ambassador.”

 


End file.
